Gang Related
by AnnaIsAnnaBackwards
Summary: Navigating life in Southside Chicago, they've each procured a different kind of mess. She, with her impoverished family and he, with his sinful past. If they can only avoid falling into anything Gang Related, they'll survive. But that may be easier to do if they're apart. Gajevy, plus Nalu, Gruvia, Jerza (AU Rated for Swearing, Violence & Mentions of Sex)
1. Chapter 1

The sheets kept a plush warmth locked around the young woman's body as she awoke. Her eyelids were swimming in sleep, and her limbs moulded into a relaxed silhouette. She made little effort to pull herself from her world of half consciousness, too contented to be in her bed. Her blue hair splayed on her pillow like a halo. Yellowing sunlight grappled from the gap in her curtains, falling smoothly on the features of her face. The sunlight rays refracted in her hair so the cream walls around her seemed to be painted by the sky.

It had been a long time since Levy had woken up of her own accord, and she was happy to just lay in that warm bed for whatever time she had, before she had to wake up properly. Time was invaluable to her nowadays.

She stretched like a cat, thinking with increasing clarity. This was great! Levy couldn't remember the last time she had woken up early. She usually milked every second of sleep she could get. When she turned her head to her dresser she realised she felt so well rested for a change, because she was. But, she hadn't woken up early- she was late.

The display, on her useless alarm clock (which had failed to go off again) read "07:46" tauntingly. She was almost a whole hour late!

Comfort of her bed forgotten, Levy flung out of her bedroom. She knew she was so dead, because if she'd overslept that meant- Shit! Levy all but sprinted into the corridor.

Levy knocked on the bedroom door next to hers in the hallway, as if attempting to break a record. Her incessant knocking was interrupted when her taller, bustier, and skimpier dressed sister answered the door bleary-eyed.

"Why such the rush to wake Juvia, Levy?" Juvia asked, speaking as she often did in the third person- a nervous habit she'd picked up from, well, the usual things that don't play out well, leading to a contraction of bad habits.

Catching her breath Levy quickly replied "Juv, my alarm failed again, so we've all overslept."

"But, Juvia relies on Levy to wake her!" She objected.

"I know, I'm sorry. It's just the way it is- it's broken or something. Besides, we're all late now, not solely you." Levy defended.

"Juvia knows that. It's just, she has very important business for today."

"And what business is that?" Levy challenged, curiously. Juvia kept very quiet about what she got up to during the day. The sisters worked as exotic dancers on night shifts for a few hours at a nightclub. While Levy was accounted for the rest of the day with her other two jobs, she had no idea what her sister got up to during the day. She had her suspicions, but these had been neither confirmed nor denied. She just hoped Juvia hadn't fallen into any old escaped troubles.

Juvia never answered Levy's question, instead deflecting. "Take your alarm to the bar tonight, someone must be good enough with their hands, and affected enough by a pretty face, to help Levy-chan with fixing it."

It was increasingly often that Juvia would encourage Levy to use her looks to get what she wanted. Levy supposed she was good looking enough to get away with it, but it often didn't sit right with her. In her mind, she was nowhere near as stunning as her sister: Juvia had shinning slick curls of darker blue hair, a pigmented shade like water in the deep sea. Her eyes shone like crystals and she utilized them to pick out perfect outfits to highlight her voluptuous figure. Levy thought she was kind of a plainer Jane in all honesty.

"I sometimes worry that your use of feminine wiles to get what you want will backfire one of these days." Levy said.

The taller, older girl seemed to briefly turn serious at this, bracing a comforting hand on Levy's shoulder, as she assured "Juvia is not doing anything to make herself unsafe, Juvia is done putting herself in harm's way." Juvia's expression of honesty rang true, but something in Levy found it hard to believe her.

"I need to go wake up the others." Levy sighed, deflated but with an element of urgency, remembering how late the family was running this morning.

"Get the alarm fixed." Juvia called after her, with an air of authority Levy had missed from her sibling.

Levy allowed herself a small smile. "See you at work tonight."

Levy went down the corridor of their cramped first floor. The house had been called many things: A slum, a death trap, no place to raise children- and that was just on the child protective services' records, let alone what it had been called to her face! The whole house appeared slanted like it was set in marsh land. Grime and liquor were on every surface. There were a few bullet holes in the ceiling, where Juvia had testified there was a rat infestation in the attic- and she'd taken immediate action. Kids' clothes were strewn about in the corridor. Levy picked them up as she went and threw them down a shoot which led to the ground floor by the washing machine.

Levy looked as she walked past the walls where she'd hidden their emergency funds of money in tins- she had to check every morning that the plaster was still intact, and nobody had taken a crowbar to the wall during the night to get to the cash. All seemed in order: no holes in the walls, but everything just as messy as usual.

She went to the bedroom door which was hanging off its hinges. Magazine pages were haphazardly stuck on the door along with a sign reading 'If you're going to make me share a room with a toddler, some privacy would be nice!' Levy opened it harshly, knocking rhythmically on the door, out of habit rather than courtesy. Inside was a dark room with the curtains drawn closed, and in the bed a tuft of blue hair breathing out from under a mottled ball of bedsheets. A similar sight came from the nearby crib. No-one would doubt that everyone living in this house was somehow related, they all shared a similar distinctive blue hair.

Keeping in mind how late the family was running this morning, Levy demanded "Wendy, Wendy get up." - the duvet groaned in protest.

"Wendy you're going to be late if you don't get up right now" Levy warned, throwing a nearby pillow at the uncaring lump. "Get Happy ready for preschool too, Breakfast is in five." Still no response. "Come on Wendy, Now!" She slammed the door on her way out.

Levy walked back down the corridor, putting her hair up in the world's quickest, messiest messy bun. She walked so quickly her hips gyrated practically painfully. In her room, she glared at her alarm like it was the spawn of all her problems and picked up a blouse from the floor. Throwing it on, she reached for a leather pencil skirt, careful not to damage its tag- which was still attached even after four consecutive days. She had to use the receipt to return it today, claiming it was 'too big' when really it was 'too expensive', before she couldn't get her money back. Another job she couldn't forget to do today.

Venturing down the stairs she was met by a cloud of smoke- she didn't panic knowing it was just puff, she could see her brother flopped out on the couch holding a joint to prove it.

"I told you not to do that until the kids were gone for the day." Levy half-heartedly scolded her lay-about brother.

Her brother was classically lazy and yet somehow maintained a business stealing and selling cars in a fake mechanics workshop. Levy had to admit, Jellal was very good at what he did -commandeering and reselling expensive cars from the North side in what would be, if he were ever caught, a major grand theft auto operation. But he'd never been caught, meaning he'd amassed quite the fortune, but it also meant he was always away working and he hadn't been around. He'd left his younger sister to be the breadwinner for the family, without ever hearing from him. He was too busy going to parties and lengthening his list of contacts in the criminal underworld who needed fresh wheels. Only now, having fallen on hard times Jellal was back, and rather than helping out to make up for lost time. he was on the couch getting high. Levy hated him for it.

"Hey, did you hear me? I said you can get high when Wendy's at school and Happy's at Preschool and neither of them have to look at you." Levy reinforced.

Jellal's disinterested reply was, "Sorry, they'd usually be gone by now. running a little late today?"

"I'm handling it." Levy spat, glaring daggers at her absent, coy, brother.

"Wendy's gonna miss the bus." Jellal warned "I can drive her to school in the corvette outside if you'd like."

"Since when is there a corvette outside?" Levy asked, going to the window and seeing the car parked out on the curb. In this neighbourhood it wouldn't be there for long. It would either be stolen or, if any police drove past, the flashy vehicle would be all the reasonable cause they'd need to come in and raid the place.

"I'm not letting you drive them to school when you're off your head on weed." Levy stated.

Jellal seemed undeterred by this, simply saying. "You better hurry her up then."

In a foul mood, at being told how to raise her own siblings by the guy who'd turned the job down, with tightly clenched fists, Levy shouted out up the stairs again. "Wendy, Hurry Up!"

An exasperated "Ok! Fine!" Rolled down the stairs to meet her.

The kitchen looked like a time capsule to a 1940s nuclear testing site. All the appliances were probably still lined with lead and asbestos. They were held together at this point with duct tape and sheer concentrated power of will. In the sink there was a huge pile of dishes that Levy would have to look forward to tonight. For now though, she turned on the gas cooker, made some rushed fried eggs and stuck them in between slices of bread, making a sort of sandwich- though such a name would be generous. She slapped PB and Jelly sandwiches together and crisps into two brown bags for Wendy and Happy's lunches. Finishing this task, she realised she hadn't seen Wendy since she'd been in bed. If she wasn't up and ready, it would take all of Levy's self-resolve not to explode. Just as she was about to call again, she came down the stairs.

Wendy was a short and thin teen of 13. She had hair a darker shade of blue than Levy that made her look more like Jellal. Perhaps, that was where Wendy's fondness for Jellal stemmed from, seemingly incapable of identifying the man's obvious flaws.

Wendy wore tight fitting jeans and sneakers, but also an overly sparkly top and bows in her long hair- alluding to the rather innocent, girly nature that she hadn't quite grown out of yet. Levy wasn't naïve enough to doubt that was coming however. Despite Levy's best efforts, Wendy had far more responsibilities than a girl her age should.

In Wendy's cradling hands was Happy, aptly named as he was the best mistake the family's long estranged parents had ever made. A constantly smiling, giggling and wriggling pink faced toddler of four years old- Happy kept Levy grounded. Her life's mission had become making certain that if any of them could be spared the hard life they'd inherited from their parents' apathy- it would be him. Levy took her baby brother from Wendy, giving her a thankful smile and a quick kiss to her temple. Wendy took the lunch-bag and egg mess in a rush to get out the door, to her school bus. But as she was exiting the back door, she hesitated.

"Hey Levy?" She chanced to say.

"Yeah Wend?" Levy asked.

"Can I go to a friend's house after school?"

Levy didn't see why not, asking your kid sister to stay home with you while you did chores because you knew you're going to be lonely wasn't an upstanding excuse after all. "I suppose so." Levy responded.

Wendy seemed instantly elevated. "Sweet, can I have some money for 'the L' then?"

'The L' was a bridge suspended train line that went all the way from their neighbourhood, one of the poorest districts of South side Chicago, to the affluent city and suburbs of the North side. It had questionable patrons using it every day, untrustworthy and desperate people, so Levy was never comfortable with Wendy using it on her own. And Wendy knew how tight money was, so if she just had to go a couple blocks, she would walk the distance rather than waste money out of laziness. Levy could only deduce from all this that Wendy was going somewhere a lot further out of her way.

"Where's this friend of yours live? The North side?" A selfish flutter of anticipation went through Levy's chest when Wendy confirmed this with a nod. Maybe if she became good friends with a North side girl some benefits for Wendy would follow. After all friends give each other gifts all the time if they can afford it. Levy wanted that for her sister, but the question remained, "That's great Wendy! But where'd you meet a North side girl?"

Wendy seemed to get nervous at this question, fidgeting. "She goes to my school, got kicked out of her old one."

Levy got suspicious. "What for?"

"I don't know." Wendy obviously lied.

"I think you might." Levy pressed.

Wendy caved. "Ok she got caught dealing at her old school and then none of the reputable schools would let her in, so she had to move to ours."

Levy's demeanour changed like a switch, now set in the off position. "Nope. absolutely not, you're not going near this girl."

"Come on Levy!" Wendy begged.

"No!" Levy reaffirmed "You're not getting wrapped up with anything, anything at all, to do with drug dealing. I don't care if she was just giving coke out in the bathrooms to her rich friends who just wanted to stick it to their parents either. Dealing is a fresh kind of hell you aren't getting into. You want drugs when you're older- fine. I'll get them for you, you can try it. But you aren't to know any suppliers, if they find out who you are they'll use you." _to get to me_. Levy almost added.

"You're such a hypocrite! I don't want to be her friend for drugs! I wanted to hang out with her because she gets loads of attention and knows loads of stuff about Paris and Milan fashion. She promised to teach me- she's really smart about it." Wendy defended.

"She was dumb enough to get herself demoted from the North side." Levy countered.

"Yeah! Well, so were you!" Wendy shouted back. A deadly silence seemed to follow, stagnant in the air. It was interrupted by Happy's crying. Levy started bouncing him on her hip, never removing her shocked eyes from Wendy's uncharacteristically savage glare. After a pause Wendy turned to leave through the kitchen door. Levy called calmly out after her in a monotone. "You're not going to that girl's house."

"FINE!" Wendy spat back, slamming the door.

It seemed like an eternity before Happy calmed down and Levy stayed shell shocked in place. Her relationship with her sister seemed to have been getting worse and worse recently, but something of this magnitude had never happened. It made Levy scared for Wendy, scared that she was becoming too like her in her behaviour. And Levy's past attitude had caused her to screw up not only her own life but all the lives of the people surrounding her. Some mistakes are bigger than others, and some paths to destruction are a one-way trip, intentions be damned.

Coming out of her haze, Levy hushed the whimpering Happy and reassessed her surroundings. Jellal now stood in the doorframe between the front room and kitchen.

"What?" Levy hissed at him. Jellal said nothing, turning back towards the couch to have yet another unproductive day before a wild night. But the look he'd given her spoke in volumes that he'd heard her and Wendy's exchange. And she knew he was judging her for it.

Somehow, Levy still found it within herself to care what Jellal thought of the job she was doing raising the kids. Because, she knew he could probably do a better job if he had ever tried. Even though he hadn't, she still felt inadequate. Maybe that's why she hadn't kicked him to the curb just yet. That and you can't choose your family.


	2. Chapter 2

In the wake of all of that- Levy's working day only honestly started when she left the house. Meaning she'd hardly even begun and she was already exhausted. Her day consisted of an 8 to 3 shift at a customer service call centre, a 5 to 7 shift waitressing and a 10 to 1 shift dancing in a club.

Before the first job she made the kids breakfast and saw them off to school. Between the first and second job, she had to get Happy and do any shopping or errands- maybe eat if time allowed. Between the second and third job she had to go home, see the kids, get them dinner and possibly, sneak to the bar for a couple of much deserved rounds. And after her night time job, well, everybody needs to sleep sometime.

Juvia liked to joke to Levy that the last thing she needed was sleep however. She thought instead, to alleviate some stress, Levy needed to get laid. The idea didn't sound all too bad to Levy, figuring there must be a gigolo working somewhere in this city for a reasonable price range and a pretty face.

Levy laughed at the thought while riding the city bus. Happy was in her lap, playing with her ringlets of rare cerulean hair.

Happy's hair was the lightest blue in the family- closest in colour to Levy's compared to the others, who all had darker hair. Complete strangers had come up to Levy riding the bus or 'The L' commenting on "her son's Beautiful hair". Levy was often reluctant to correct them. She was 22, meaning she was in that sort of age range where a stranger would think she was either Happy's much older sister or his teen mother. And teen mothers were so common in the South side, they often made the mistake of assuming that's what she was.

It would be simple enough to clear up the misunderstanding if Levy wanted transparency on this issue. But she naturally closed herself off, leaving people guessing- she never trusted the guarded sympathy of others. She knew she was viewed as a tragedy or charity case. She couldn't stand that.

But for clarity, Happy's real mother was far away, having run off with their father, Frank. Out of the family, Happy was the only one who hadn't met their father as he hadn't been around for years.

Frank had considered himself an expert in public speaking, but he was known as a 'street preaching drunk'. When he was around, he'd done things you'd more likely find on a prison sentencing than in a parenting book. Levy had been left on a park bench overnight, sent into drug dens to retrieve cash and was used in every scam imaginable involving a lost little girl needing to make a phone call- all before she reached her 10th birthday.

Their mom hadn't been much better, but she was more ditzy than dangerous. Her most questionable morals, seemed to stem in fidelity- or a lack there of. There was a rumour that their mom had a long spanning fling with Frank's brother, who would have been Levy's uncle. Levy was fairly sure however that Frank's brother was in fact her, and Happy's, real biological father. She'd met him once, he'd been short and had impossibly light hair. Her mother's promiscuity and their resemblance had led Levy to reach the silent conclusion that Her and Happy, and the rest of her 'siblings' were in fact half-siblings.

She'd never shared this conclusion aloud, but knowing this, when things had gotten hard, she'd thought about taking Happy away on a train, and just leaving the other three behind. She might have raised Happy like her own son far away from them. Levy hated herself for thinking that, it was her deepest shame. She thought of abandoning the others who needed her as a sister, who deserved to see their baby brother grow up. But she could never hate Happy's smiling face that made her so tempted to try it. Perhaps they would be better off if they left.

Levy dropped Happy off at his preschool building a few blocks away from the bus stop, so she had to walk with him in the stroller down the sidewalk for a little while. She was late for her first job already, but she didn't want to rush while he could see. So instead she walked at a brisk pace and pointed out clouds in the sky. "Look at that one Happy, it's a cat with wings!" She'd say, with enthusiasm, when walking past an alley full of junkies. And because he was looking up at the sky, Happy would remain none the wiser.

Levy was sure Happy's stroller had been used by every single one of them at some point, and when leaving it in the cloakroom of the school, to use later when she came to pick him up, it was painfully obvious next to the other buggies that it was decades old.

But it also had ironic cartoon flames painted on its sides. Jellal had done this when he'd shown up unexpected in mid-August saying Happy needed the "sweetest set of wheels in the place". It had given Levy hope that Jellal would be present and helpful now that he was back. Only Jellal had proved to be a wash out.

Leaving Happy with the Preschool staff Levy waved goodbye as she walked away, but upon reaching the first street corner she started running. She ran until her lungs burned for air. People threw themselves out of her way, as she barrelled down the street. Pedestrians shouted after her, making obscene gestures. She glanced at her watch, she was so late.

When the two of them founded the company, they'd been drunk and making a prank call. It was a funny story, or funny by their standards. It started what felt like a lifetime ago. Back then, Jet and his best friend Droy used to be the kind of guys you'd see at a party and _almost_ want to go over to talk to. But ultimately, you'd decide against it, because they just looked so out of place, and what would you talk to them about anyway?

But that wasn't the case now. No siree! Now they were co-owners of the second largest call centre in the Tristate area, and could expect to retire comfortably and pay off a mortgage virtually debt free. It doesn't sound like much, but financial security was much-admired in the Southside. Maybe, Jet would get a B-rate gold digger in his later life, he pondered.

Back then, the two friends had been bored out their minds, and made a prank call pretending to sell reusable Styrofoam cups to a random dialled number. Turns out, they were a bit too good at persuasion however, because the listener eventually wanted to make the deal. In too deep to just say it had been intended as a joke, Jet and Droy searched up a genuine polymer utensil factory and informed them of the interested party. Before they knew it, they were being sent cash for making the deal on their behalf.

What followed were more similar calls and more similar successes. People left their details in hopes of being contacted again, people contacted them to ask for promotion. The whole thing blew up in proportions, and soon Jet and Droy were on the phone ten hours of the day. Before long, they needed an office and paid staff to man telephones.

Five years later, Jet was sat in his office on a spiny chair desperately bored and reminiscing because the main captivation of his attention had yet to show up for work today. That's right, Jet was pining over one of his own employees, and so was Droy. The two friends had a long withstanding friendship but recently it was suffering due to the fact they've both fallen for the same girl.

"Stop staring at the door," The plump, dark haired man said, sweating himself out of his tight collar suit. "It won't make her show up any sooner."

Jet huffed and turned away from facing the entrance, his ginger spiky hair moving quicker than he did, as if it had a mind of its own. Jet's hands fidgeted as he chanced to say to Droy. "Do you reckon we should call her out on her tardiness yet?"

Jet had thought that, one of these days, he'd keep her behind to say that she'd have to make up for lost time off the clock, with just the two of them in the office. Maybe she'd be so nervous to possibly get fired (not that he ever would) that she'd say something like: "No please, I'd do anything to make up the time."

"Anything?" He'd ask in reply. She'd be wearing a particularly low-cut blouse, bite her lip, shift under his scrutinizing gaze in a tight skirt, sitting her perfect ass against his wood desk.

"Yes, anything at all." And she'd be breathing hard in anticipation, ringlets of her blue hair falling from their place in her updo. And he'd tower over her, because she's just so petite, as he advanced on her perfect body, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "Well, maybe you could-"

"Jet!" Droy shouted again, this time successfully ripping him from his fantasy- just as it was getting good too. "You didn't hear what I said, did you?" Jet just looked sheepish in response.

Rather apathetically, Droy replied, "Man, do me a favour and try it. Just have a go at telling her what to do- she won't take any of your bullshit. And the more she gets put off from you, the more I'll grow on her." Droy concluded smugly.

Jet wore a sour expression and mumbled "More like grow around her, fatso."

Their shared infatuation with their employee had not gone unnoticed by their other staff and had earned her infamy around the office, because of multiple cases of special treatment. However, she remained none the wiser to this and every day she didn't notice her bosses' advances, Jet and Droy's mutual friendship seemed to suffer. All Levy had to do was enter the building to set the two against each other. Which, thirty minutes later than she was supposed to, is exactly what she did.

Levy came out of the elevator looking like a hot mess, having ran several blocks. When she was running, the tag to her skirt had been untucked meaning it billowed in the wind very briefly before she ran into a particularly disgruntled old man, who, in a tangle of limbs and profuse apologies (on Levy's part), ripped the tag away. Levy was now, not only agonising over her dismal punctuality but also the expensive skirt that she could no longer return. Sorting out the retched thing, which had also ridden up in her run, her eyes were down cast, meaning she didn't see her two bosses as they approached. She was brought back to reality when, inadvertently adding insult to injury, one of them said "Hello Levy, nice skirt you're wearing today."

Looking up, Levy saw Droy responding to Jet. "It's the same one as yesterday, and you said the same thing about it yesterday."

"What it shows off her-"

"Jet, Droy," Levy panted, interrupting them with, the slightly over familiar use of their first names. But they had insisted she address them as such. "I am so sorry I'm late, it's just my alarm didn't go off and I had to get my brother to his school." Levy started apologising only to be cut off.

"Not at all Levy, we understand."

"Of course, the work you do here is invaluable, we can warrant you the benefit of the doubt." Levy hit them with one of her most radiant smiles, laying it on thick to get herself off the hook, "Oh you two, I can't thank you enough. I'll get to work right away."

Levy walked past the small plywood cubicles with box desks, towards her own separate room. Levy knew offices were usually reserved for people who'd been promoted, but when she'd asked, she'd surprisingly received. And Levy was grateful that she had her own space with four walls and a ceiling, because it meant she could earn money from her not-so-reputable side job.

Levy, for most of her shift, answered customer calls with her head-piece microphone and sealed a few company deals, logging the records in the spreadsheet database on her computer. She was an efficient worker and made a lot of progress while she was making calls. Only, Levy had a unique feature in her room in the form of a separate phone line, disconnected from all the other phones. She'd set it up herself and it wasn't for selling any kind of product you could touch. Levy froze in relaying her sales pitch to a customer on her headpiece when she heard this other phone ring.

"Sir, I'm going to put you through to another representative." Levy said, doing just that. She ripped her head-piece off and stood subtly going over to her office door and locking it, all while the phone rang. She picked up the phone and whispered into it, in her most sultry voice.

"Hello?"

"Hey baby, why are you whispering?" A man breathed into the other end of the line.

"I don't want him to hear." Levy responded.

"Who?"

"My husband." Levy lied.

"Oh yeah, that's hot." The man praised, chuckling to himself "what would he do if he ever caught you talking to me like this?"

"Spank me. But I'd like it." Levy challenged. The guy on the other end moaned.

"Yeah, I bet you like that. What are you wearing?" He asked greedily.

"A tight leather skirt," Levy said, taking inspiration from reality "It's so tight you'd be able to see my pantie line only- I'm not wearing any." She lied.

He grunted again. "Don't stop."

Levy went over to the window facing into the office and drew the blinds down for privacy, she then moved the phone down, from by her ear, to the zipper on the side of her skirt. She pulled the zip down tantalizingly slow, loosening the fabric. She then started to jump up and down. "Do you hear that?" She asked moving the phone briefly back up to her ear from near her backside.

"Yeah." The guy confirmed.

"what does that sound like to you?" She asked.

"Clapping." The guy responded.

"Well, that's my ass cheeks hitting each other." This made the guy audibly groan.

"Finger yourself." He demanded, making Levy cringe. She made no move to do so, but she moved the phone nearer to her mouth. She then mimicked moans of pleasure, when in reality keeping a straight face- not turned on in the slightest by this demanding dick probably sat in his mom's basement jerking off. She carried on, looking bored towards the clock. She wondered about trivial things while pretending to reach closer and closer to her climax, and by the time she'd decided she was 'finished' and made her final muffled cry, she'd also decided a drink at the bar was definitely in order for tonight.

To Levy's surprise, the asshole on the line hadn't finished yet and was still grunting like a feral pig- usually she got callers who were so lonely and horny she'd so much as sneeze and they'd cum into their hand. She put the speaker close to her throat and sucked on her finger briefly, keeping up the façade she'd been pleasuring herself. She then said a barrage of textbook phrases to push a guy over the edge. "I want you inside me so much right now." She hissed. "It feels so good! I'm going to remember this for days."

"You like that huh?" The guy boasted, as if he'd done anything. "Well cum loud for me then, cum so loud that your husband hears and comes into the room and spanks you."

"You're so much better than my husband." Levy praised.

"Shit, if I ever meet you you're so getting it, ugh." The guy fantasied. "What are you waiting for?" The guy asked impatiently "cum now!"

He clearly doesn't know how a girl's orgasm works, Levy thought. He was impatient when _he_ was the one taking his time! She figured this guy wanted a show stopping cry from her to end on, and she suddenly became very aware that she was at work and walls are only so thick. But Levy was a risk taker, her current life was a testament to that. "Do it now!" The guy demanded aggressively again, And Levy decided not having to talk to this guy any longer was well worth the threat of being disgraced from her upstanding job. "Aaaahh" Levy hissed.

"Louder!" he shouted.

And, against her better judgement, Levy did. "Aaaahh!"

The guy groaned his loudest since the start of their interaction, signalling Levy's work was done. He took a while to compose himself.

"Thanks bitch." he said curtly when he had his breath back.

"Just make your payment out to Guildarts Clive." She said with a practiced calm. The guy started with a complaining tone. "Yeah I know the drill by no-"

"Levy? Levy, are you alright in there?" Jet's worried barrage came from the outside of her door, making her heart jump into her throat.

"Holy shit!" The guy on the phone started. "You weren't joking about having a husband either, fuck this- I'm out." He sufficiently stated before hanging up the call.

As soon as she heard the dead line, Levy threw the receiver down, she stood so fast her chair nearly toppled and she refastened her zip on her now well-worn in skirt. She quickly made her way to the door's lock, unlatching it only to come face to face with Jet who seemed to be in the process of a run up to ram it with his skinny shoulder. It's a good thing Levy opened the door when she did, or else he may have dislocated his shoulder. That gave Levy an idea. As Jet quickly stopped his advance on the door so as not to run right into Levy- he stood very close to her with a worried expression on his face. "Levy, are you alright? We heard you cry out."

"It's my shoulder," Levy expertly lied. "I'd just been bent over the computer non-stop, so I took a beat to stretch it out and, before I know it, I think I've popped it out of place." Soon Jet's clammy hands were all over her shoulders thinking she was injured, a hundred questions escaped his lips.

The pair had earned themselves quite an audience, noisy co-workers eyeballing the scene, due to Levy's outward cry, but Her boss's fussing wasn't helping Levy dissipate the situation. She heard Jet say: "We have to get you to the hospital."

"No!" Levy stated far too quickly to not arouse suspicion. She quickly explained herself, "I really can't afford to stop at a clinic right now and I need the hours at work, honestly I'll be alright- I think it's only minor."

Despite her excuses, Jet was far from reassured though it seemed. "I'll pay for it then, we have to get it seen to." That all sounded terrible. Levy could _not_ owe this guy a debt and she'd have no way of explaining herself when whatever useless scan or test from the hospital came back saying her shoulder had never been hurt in the first place.

Levy did some rapid-fire analysis of her current situation. Dissuading jet seemed unlikely, he was persistent which, while flattering, had proven to be very problematic. Pursuing another lie would be too suspicious, she'd have to stick to her guns. All that remained would be finding a solution to a dislocated shoulder that didn't involve a trip to hospital.

"We can take my car." Jet offered, successfully consolidating Levy's decision. She had to stop this before it escalated any further.

Without warning, with an almighty smack, that would've made a masochistic blush, Levy threw her shoulder against the door frame. Biting down on a cry of pain, she cradled her arm and began rolling the socket. "There." She managed, through gritted teeth. "Popped it back in place without a hitch, no need for a hospital trip." She assured. This time Jet seemed too frightened to disagree with her. Levy's co-workers shrank back into their booths, muttering about 'that boss-ass bitch who just smacked her arm back into place to avoid time in the emergency room'.

Levy apologised to Jet for causing a ruckus and informed him she was going to get back to work, and Jet just about got out enough of an audible response to not appear comatose.

Levy's office door shut, and Jet ambled back to his office where a disapproving Droy was standing. Jet still trying to process what had happened only just heard his partner's voice say: "Man, I know you haven't been laid in a while, but I didn't think you'd forgotten what a girl cumming sounded like."

Jet shot him a confused look. "Cumming?"

"Yeah, that" Droy confirmed, pointing towards Levy's room "was not a scream of pain. It was the other thing."

Droy explained himself no further, returning to his desk, his trousers uncomfortably tight with this knowledge. His remark also fuelled Jet's snowballing imagination. Luckily, Levy did not receive any more _'personal calls_ ' at work that day.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I cleaned up the last two chapters, and made them more succinct, you don't need to re-read them if you've been following this story. (Nothing of substance has really changed) But if you did, let me know if it's improved them :)**

A Kaleidoscope of neon bright colours eclipsed a distorted ceiling in his vision. Clear clouds of smoke from his blunt dissipated, out of the reach of his gelatinized limbs. He was so tempted to reach out and grab the smoke only, it seemed to evade his sloth-like movements. He knew he'd get nothing for touching the smoke, but the bliss revolving in his mind whispered to him that to grab the smoke would mean some grand fulfilment- so he reached for it anyway. Laying back on the moth-eaten couch, time became relative- escaping him like the smoke from his joint. Jellal stayed there for hours.

Being stoned was about the only way he could tolerate this place, this house that Levy now ran. He closed his eyes, his facial tattoo twitching on his cheek underneath. He thought back on all that had happened there. The house was a wreck and a mausoleum to his past life. The walls just held too many memories of the man who had called himself his father- Frank. The man responsible for every bad thing that had happened in Jellal's life.

Jellal remembered him alright. He'd put out his cigarettes more often on his skin than in an ashtray. After everything Jellal had given to his unappreciative father, and the abuse he'd received in payment, he couldn't stay in this house any longer than necessary.

He'd left with few regrets, even though he knew he'd be leaving Wendy. He cared deeply for his sister Wendy, and it had hurt him to leave her so young. He'd missed her and her alone. Honestly, he didn't care much for his other siblings.

Jellal thought back on his life, while smoking weed on the couch, willing away hapless hours.

Jellal and Juvia were born close together, raised questionably by their parents until an age where they were expected to predominantly fend for themselves. Their parents' priority then became catching up on years of missed drinking and partying.

Juvia was always gloomy, and for no particular reason. Too weak in will for the world and the family she'd been born into, she was always crying.

Initially, Jellal had attempted to be his sister's protector. He overcame challenges with a futile stoicism because he wanted to appear strong for his (at the time) only younger sister. He'd thought that he'd be able to keep up that façade of strength forever. But, regrettably, Jellal's experiences saw his resilience waver, and he'd slowly lost empathy for Juvia's sorrow. Eventually, because she was dramatic, and never a bit happy despite all he tried to do for her, Jellal blamed Juvia's attitude for her own struggle. Sometimes, he also blamed her for his.

Levy was more of a puzzle, she always had been. Jellal did not however grow to detest her in the typical sense of a deteriorating relationship. Instead, if you were to ask, he'd testify that he'd never liked Levy.

When it had been just him and Juvia, Jellal had struggled, yes. They were too young to have all the responsibilities they did, but a baby was a whole other thing. After their mother, Monica, gave birth to Levy, now that their parents had elder children to give their baby to look after, they jumped at the opportunity to get back to their wild lifestyles as soon as possible. Meaning Jellal became Levy's main guardian.

As he knew she would, she commonly became Jellal's responsibility. She was dependent on him, while their parents weren't home -out on benders getting drunk. He just wanted to go out on his bike, make some friends, and be normal. He had a crush on this girl with red hair down the street, it would have been nice to go and talk to her, not worried about a baby left at home.

Levy had been born also with a shock of light blue hair that simply didn't match his and Juvia's darker blue. And Jellal took this to mean a great unrest in the love he'd believed his mother, Monica had had for his father, Frank.

Jellal had never loved his father, but he'd always believed his mother had. He also believed children were born out of love, even if that love wasn't directly transferred to them later. Parents were supposed to love one another. And Levy existed as proof directly contradicting that fact. Jellal was in school sometimes. He knew a little about genetics from science and he knew a lot about sex, his neighbourhood never too worried about shielding impressionable children. "Cheating" within a relationship wasn't ever explained to Jellal but Levy being born had helped him figure it out. He couldn't understand how someone would have a child with someone other than the person they loved, unless they didn't really love that person and were only pretending, only lying. So maybe there was absolutely no love in his family at all.

This meant Levy, with her recessive light hair, became an enigma to Jellal. He hadn't told Juvia that Levy was different from them but he always suspected Levy wasn't really his sister like Juvia was. And yet, it fell upon Jellal to take care of her. Jellal's sense of justice as a young and smart boy battled internally with this for many years. Ultimately, reaching the conclusion that Levy, a baby, was taking advantage of his charity.

He'd seen adults trick each other to get what they want, but his whole world view was shattered when he figured a baby could do so as well. Something that was so seemingly innocent stealing away your kindness, which it wasn't entitled to. How dare she?

In Jellal's mind, not only had Levy abused his kindness however, she'd also thrived from it. At a similar age to the one he'd been waned off his parental support he left Levy to look after herself. Being the eldest, he still made meals and did housework, but at least they all now had their jobs around the house. Over the passing years, Jellal and Juvia went into Highschool and both got jobs, he, stacking shelves at a local shop and she, babysitting and waitressing. All this combined by the fact they got on different school buses and had different rooms in their house meant that the two elder and one younger sibling saw very little of each other. Jellal was thankful for it, but by distancing himself he didn't see a change that was occurring in Levy.

It started out small. She always had a book from the school library: the books she chose seemed to get more durable, heavier, longer and increased in complexity over time. Then a lot of letters from the school were delivered to the house. Assuming they were about parents' conferences or grievances from teachers, Jellal threw them away. Then one night, Juvia was doing her homework in the kitchen. She was finding 10th grade difficult and often when she was struggling with a question she'd say it aloud.

"The first English colony in Massachusetts, was established in which year and in which district?" She mumbled absentmindedly off the page, sat at the kitchen table while nearby Jellal did the dishes. From the living room, where Levy was watching cartoons, Juvia heard: "1620, Plymouth."

Juvia shot up in her seat and eyed Jellal warily. She flipped to the back of her text book to check the answer, it was correct. Amazed, Juvia got out her maths textbook quietly, as if trying not to startle a nervous deer she was observing through trees. She stared at her 9-year-old sister through the door way zoned out in front of the TV cross-legged like normal, paying Juvia no heed. More resolutely, and louder this time, Juvia read a question from the page. "What's 8 to the power of -2 thirds?" A beat of trepid silence passed before Levy said, once again, not ungluing her eyes from the television. "A quarter." Juvia looked over to Jellal who could only nod to tell Juvia she was right. Jellal this time found a word on the page and read it out commanding: "Spell 'ambiguity'" and in response, " Y". Jellal and Juvia that night had stumbled across a fact that changed everything. Levy wasn't like them at all- she was better.

Jellal bunked off 11th grade to go into school with Levy the next day, only telling her that he had to talk to one of her teachers. Upon doing so, Jellal's suspicions were confirmed by Levy's teacher. Levy, a 5th grader, had gotten 87% of the marks on the same test last year's 10th graders at his high school had been set. The teacher with a broad smile showed him the test he himself remembered having taken, and sure enough Levy had aced it.

"She's remarkable," the teacher praised. "these levels at her age practically qualify her as a child genius. If she continues to develop her knowledge at the same rate, she could go into any field she desires."

With a mercenary Southside way of thinking one can't help but inherit, Jellal envisioned what that would mean. Levy could go to college, she could get some high rate job, leave the Southside, get rich, and maybe then she could repay him for all the trouble she caused by way of financial support. On the one hand, this advancement could be a lifted weight from his shoulders- she could provide for the rest of them like a golden goose. On the other hand, he was bitter that Levy had means to make more for herself without even having to try. Levy would also be under no obligation to support her family once she was in a comfortable position. It was the perfect, one-way ticket out of Dodge. Jellal couldn't help but be irrationally angry that he hadn't won the lottery for her intellect which, if genius is truly down to genetics, Levy only won because she was a bastard child anyway and had someone other than Frank's DNA.

Jellal kept quiet about Levy's gift to everyone except Juvia, and life carried on as normal for a time. Shit really hit the fan that summer, when Frank and Monica came home from a trip. They'd been living in Wyoming with some truckers and bikers, who had picked them up on the road, when they'd made an impromptu visit to the house.

Juvia let slip the recent development about Levy, and it had changed entirely how the parents saw her. They now looked at Levy not as a problem-child, like her predecessors, but as one of opportunity. Her potential was something which they could drill and drain for oil. But you can only drill close to the source. So, much to Jellal's dismay, His parents were more present than ever before, so their youngest daughter would remember them fondly and see them through the finances of their later life.

The parents tortured themselves to stay grounded at their house, but they couldn't resist their natures. So, while they were around they still misbehaved. This meant that Levy missed out on traditional avenues of abuse from her father, to instead assist with his scams. Levy became the obvious favourite of her mother who would dote over her like she'd finally acquired a child who wasn't defective.

Jellal was powerless to get rid of his parents and during this time he found booze and drugs to be quite the crutch. He didn't go to any of his finals, and despite his capability he didn't graduate.

Juvia had loved having her parents back around again. Being naive, she seemingly believed some power in the universe had shifted which had made her parents honest and consistent. She didn't see their impending betrayal which was evident a mile off, that they'd revert to their old ways of irresponsibility regardless of Levy.

One-night Monica revealed to the family she was pregnant, again. Juvia and Levy were happy, Jellal was outraged. He challenged his mother for her irresponsible behaviour, that she'd bring yet another child into the world she had no intention of looking after. He knew sure as anything he'd be burdened with the result of another one of her wild nights with Frank, or perhaps even someone else, it made Jellal disgusted. Frank jumped to Monica's defence and a fight ensued, blows were thrown as well as insults. Jellal was made to feel as if he'd wasted his life thus far cleaning up his parent's messes. The final straw having been reached, he threw out Frank and Monica.

Needless to say, the basket that was left on Jellal's doorstep close to nine months later did not contain a letter of apology. Rather, there was a blanketed, chubby faced, rosy baby inside. His Parents hadn't even stuck around at the door long enough to tell Jellal her name.

Something about this was different from the last time however. Jellal had a fleeting but growing hope that perhaps this little girl could become his chance to fashion a likeminded individual in this toxic household- someone who'd understand common sense, his way of thinking, someone who'd empathise with his justifiable outrage.

Something about the baby's darker shade of blue hair told Jellal she'd be different from Levy. He named her Wendy, and she really was his baby sister. Third times the charm.

The events in following years leading up to Jellal leaving the house had to do with his work taking off. He was stealing cars, having mechanics clean them up- offering a slick red herring of a paint job and reselling them under the guise of a legitimate business. He was a conductor of huge scale automobile thievery and repossession. An illegal business but by no means an unprofitable one.

Jellal was discrete about his work though, and no-one was meant to know what he got up to. Only Levy saw right through him. She even foresaw him ditching the family and leaving her in charge. when she confronted him about it only consolidated his plan to leave.

When ultimately Jellal left he felt sorry for Wendy but he'd be lying to say it wasn't the best decision he'd ever made for himself. And he took a relatively sadistic pleasure in passing the baton of responsibility for the family affairs onto the teenage Levy. It hadn't fallen to Juvia because she'd been in a bad place mentally. Everything fell to Levy, who had had plans of university that were now impossible after Jellal's departure.

He never imagined that years later he'd get in such a tight spot with serious people that he'd have to crawl back for a place to crash. But business was not as good as usual. And when business isn't good Jellal had tendency to stress. And to abate stress Jellal would smoke weed and reminisce, just like now.

In the present day, Jellal had a BMW to move that would make him some hard cash, so he supposed he should go down the shop. But currently Jellal was finding the avenues of his stoner-mind too fascinating to move. He rolled over on the couch, vision swimming, figuring he'd give himself ten more minutes. Who could he hurt in the comfort of his own home anyway?

He let out a hollow laugh at the random thought that had popped into his head. 'His own home?' Yeah right! The weed had to be good to trick his brain into thinking that one. When had this place ever been a home?


	4. Chapter 4

Levy stood, leaning against the railing of the preschool fence, under a banner reading 'Exceedingly supportive day-care'. She positioned herself expertly, to not put any pressure on her shoulder, which was already blossoming into a technicoloured bruising. She sat, waiting by her rickety stroller painted with ironic flames, in her uniform for her next day job- a skimpy waitressing number, earning her distasteful looks from the pre-schoolers' mothers. Upon the ringing of a bell, the preschool spat out a flood of children, who were passed to respective parents. Levy was handed Happy by a caring young woman with pale hair, who's lapel had a nametag reading 'Yukino'. "How was he today?" Levy asked.

"An angel as always. The first to listen and do as he's told, isn't that right Happy?"

"Aye." He gurgled in confirmation, making the woman chuckle and praise- "You've raised a wonderful son, Miss Levy." Levy just smiled and, as always, made no effort to correct her. Yukino's features quickly contorted into shock upon seeing her bruise- "Miss Levy, your shoulder!"

"It's nothing, don't worry- I just fell."

"You're sure?" Yukino asked, clearly breeding tales of domestic abuse inside her head- ones Levy could only hope wouldn't metastasize into malignant rumours. One's which could land her a visit from an invasive social services team.

"Absolutely." Levy assured, knowing full well she'd never let somebody lay a hand on her again.

Levy waved off Yukino and her concerns and then left, with Happy in the stroller, to the nearest station. The two of them rode on 'The L' for roughly half an hour, suffering the grime, crowded seating and lurid stares from other train passengers. After leaving the train Levy got catcalled and followed down the street. She clutched the pepper spray in her purse like a holy grail until her workplace was within throwing distance, then, her palpitations subsided.

Levy had been working at '8-bit Island' a lot longer than the call centre and therefore felt safer in that environment. She knew more people there and liked the old boss Yajima a great deal. It still had unenviable pay though unfortunately, which meant Levy ultimately took on both jobs.

Entering the building, the bell latch on the door signalled Levy's arrival with a shrill ring. A petite pale girl who, now that levy thought about it, held quite the resemblance to Yukino, carried trays, greeting Levy warmly over crowds of patrons. "Hiya Levy, Hiya Happy!"

"Hi Lisanna," Levy replied placing Happy in a high chair at the breakfast bar, and she put on an 8-bit Island apron from her peg behind it. "Been busy?" Levy asked.

"Always busy." Lisanna confirmed cheerfully. "So that'll be a pot of black coffee, cheese grill with no onions and OJ with barbeque burger and curly fries for you guys?" Lisanna asked, relaying a couple their order, before she sprang into action.

No longer distracted and giving Levy her full attention, Lisanna laughed when Levy whispered, none too subtly- "Who the hell has a grilled cheese without onions?" Lisanna smirked, shushing her, as they walked further from the table for the sake of discretion. The light-hearted comment had established a more relaxed atmosphere that, unfortunately, Lisanna felt inclined to shatter.

"Juvia was in here earlier." Lisanna said gravely, wasting no time- as was her nature, honesty which was very refreshing for Levy.

"Oh?" Levy questioned, not catching on.

"She had some salt and pepper haired bloke with her, real creepy looking guy- they came in for breakfast." Levy went quiet at the news, processing the information.

"What are you thinking Levy?" Lisanna asked.

"I think my sister is a grown woman who can handle herself and I shouldn't pry." Levy said like a mantra, not quite believing her own words.

"But what if she's hooking with old creepy dudes, Levy? She didn't look comfortable being here today."

"Probably because she knew I'd find out about it soon as I got in for work. But she's promised me Lis, she's not doing anything to get herself in trouble and she knows that qualifies as big trouble." Levy assured.

"I just worry about her." Lisanna admitted, after a beat of silence.

Levy leaned over and gave her a hug, stretching over the countertop to reach.

"I do too." Levy confided, whispering to her friend.

"Don't you worry Levy! You've got enough on your plate as it is, without extra stress." Lisanna chastised her, strengthening their hug. The moment was broken however by lurid wolf whistling from the other side of the diner.

"Damn girlies, didn't know this place did live entertainment as well as takeout. It's dinner and a show!" Bixslow leered, clearly insinuating the affection between the girls to be quite entertaining to him on an instinctual level.

"Keep it in your pants, Bixslow!" Lisanna scolded the ruffian of a man- with spiked hair, punk style, an outrageously distracting tongue tattoo and compelling green eyes. He seemed to loiter at the diner purposefully to aggravate the preppy Lisanna. He was always at the diner under the guise of being there to visit not her, but rather his long-time friend, Evergreen. Levy however, could see right through him for what his outrageous comments truly were- bids for Lisanna's undivided attention.

"It's a compliment sugar," Bixslow stressed. "I'm just saying- I'd happily have the both of you, if you'd be interested."

"The both of us?" Levy queried, tone disbelieving, telling Bixslow she knew who he really had eyes for, while also expertly expressing her lack of interest.

"Don't short-change yourself Levy, leaning over that desk I got to see a whole new side to you, a backside, if you know what I mean?" Levy wondered how dense the girls he usually hit on would have to be for that one to go over their heads. Bixslow continued. "and that ass alone has made me think much more highly of you."

This really pissed Lisanna off, who stalked over to a now cowering Bixslow. "You do know we can kick people out of here for harassing us, right?"

"I was just trying to say she has a bright future behind her." Bixslow defended, before getting a weak slap.

"You absolute sleaze!" Lisanna squawked, like a petulant tantruming child, to the point where Levy had to cover her mouth, so as not to laugh aloud.

As if the timing was willed by serendipity itself, in all her glory Evergreen chose that moment to enter the restaurant area from the back. She glared daggers from behind her fine-cut, scholar-style glasses. Bixslow seemed to shrink in size. "Cease the vulgarities Bixslow, or else you will soon remember how it feels to reside under my feet." Evergreen said, flaunting her very high, deliberately pointed heels. Levy couldn't help but develop a visual image of Bixslow being impaled by the hideously tall point on her shoes- she almost felt bad for him. It had the necessary effect however- while he was at the restaurant, Bixslow wasn't any more trouble.

The successive hours were fairly normal, filled with the usual gossip and chatter- mostly on Levy and Lisanna's part and less on Evergreen's but it was still a very laid-back atmosphere. Kinana arrived half way through their shift, beginning hers. Kinana started selling alcohol at the bar and again the general atmosphere became overtly one of laxness.

Patrons came and went, a fair few coddling over Happy, in his high chair. He was waiting very patiently for Levy to finish work, to go back home for dinner and cartoons. Levy would slip him, here and there, a juice box or morsel of food and then take the cost off her pay for that day. Some customers, mostly young women, queried her on her bruised shoulder, but Levy shrugged off these concerns with a practiced unsuspicious charm. So many started asking however, that Levy thought it best to find a means of discretion over it.

"Evergreen," Levy called out to the calculating woman who acknowledged her with a sort of bored reverence. "Do you have any concealer on you, to cover this?" She pointed to her bruise.

"I have foundation yes," She answered rather detachedly, not asking after the wound's origins like everyone else had done. Levy was thankful, she could always count on Evergreen to have a 'don't ask, don't tell, don't care' attitude. "but," Evergreen continued- "not one you can use, my complexion is much fuller and more tanned than yours. It would just draw attention to the blemish on your pale skin." Levy forgot she could also always rely on Evergreen undoubtedly for a degree of vanity and passive aggression.

Evergreen continued, pointing towards Lisanna- "If you need some, ask Casper over there, she's friendly enough."

Kinana quickly voiced outrage from behind the bar. "Ever! That was mean, you shouldn't talk about your sister-in-law that way." Levy remarked this, thinking that Ever undoubtedly regularly treated Lisanna's brother Elfman, to whom she was married, much crueller than this. The two argued like an old married couple. But Levy shuddered to think how she'd suffer if she was ever caught calling Evergreen old.

"What? She's pale and so are you two." Evergreen stated rather undiplomatically and unapologetically.

"But she's your family!" Kinana futilely objected.

"And you'd never say something like that about Mirajane, just her." Levy injected, rather perceptively.

"Yes well, her sister is terrifying." Evergreen admitted, slightly losing her edge in the admission.

"Best hope she doesn't pit her against you then." Levy warned darkly, but with no underlying malice.

"Here you go, Levy." Kinana said- offering up, an admittedly pale, foundation, which Levy took.

Upon returning from the back room, after applying the concealer and returning it, there were many fewer customers and the girls had more time to strike up conversation. Lisanna joined them, after finishing a bill transaction, and raised a question to Levy. "Why's there a microwave looking do-dad out the back in Happy's stroller, Levy?"

Levy knew immediately that Lisanna was referring to the broken alarm clock that She'd carted around all day, holding out hope that she'd be able to find time to drop it at an electronics store, so it could be fixed. She explained all this rather hopelessly to Lisanna, who was quick to be optimistic.

"Don't worry about paying some scammer at a store for that Levy, one of the guys at Fairy tail will be able to do that for you no problem." 'Fairy tail' being the name of the bar which was frequented by many of her friends, Levy was reluctant.

"Juvia told me to do the same thing but it feels like a manipulation." Levy said.

"It's just a favour Levy, you can rely on someone once in a while." Lisanna giggled. "Some of those guys might even be qualified to do it for you," Lisanna offered. "Take Gajeel, for example-"

"Oh yeah, Gajeel!" Kinana shouted out, seemingly in agreement.

"Who's Gajeel?" Levy asked, the name unfamiliar to her.

"You two haven't met yet?" Lisanna asked, Levy shook her head. "He's a friend of Natsu's and Gray's." The statement offered some clarity as, Levy was long standing friends with those two character-full men, who she'd gone to high school with. All being well, when she went to Fairy Tail tonight she'd see the two of them there- the place practically being their second home. Levy found it regrettable she hadn't been able to get away for a drink with them in so long. She enjoyed talking to them.

"Those two lug heads managed to make a friend that wasn't forced to go through school with them? Why would this Gajeel guy put up with them for so long?" Levy asked finding the notion comical that they wouldn't come on too strong to somebody. Natsu and Gray were a juxtaposing and acquired taste. They grew on you with time, like a mouldy cheese.

Giggling along, Lisanna explained- "'This Gajeel guy' became their friend rather begrudgingly, mostly due to a lack of ability to get away- so you weren't wrong about that. From what I hear, they've all been working at the same place, a mechanics on 105th street." This offered Levy some much needed clarity but equally more questions.

"Lis, Did you say Natsu and Gray are working in the car shop on 105th?" Levy asked, urgently.

"Yeah, why?" Lisanna asked, none the wiser.

"That's my Brother's shop! For his car ring!" Levy whispered urgently. "What are they doing working there?"

Quite calmly, Lisanna clinically deliberated "Well they aren't mechanics, but they have worked as cons in the past, so they're probably stealing the old cars that the mechanics, like Gajeel, do up."

"What are they doing getting caught up in illegal business with my Brother?" Levy challenged.

"Relax Levy, they've done stuff like this in the past and never gotten caught before. They know what they're doing."

"It's a bad idea- my brother isn't trustworthy." Levy reaffirmed making a mental note to confront Natsu and Gray concerning it later.

Evergreen interrupted with a rather bored tone. "Who cares about them? I think we're missing the headline here ladies, because from what I gather, aren't mechanics usually ripped? And isn't this Gajeel guy one of those?" Evergreen asked making it clear that, like Levy, she'd also never met this man.

"You're married!" Kinana squawked in outrage.

"To my brother!" Lisanna continued.

"I wasn't asking for myself." Evergreen defended, shooting a poignant look towards Levy. This seemed enough for Lisanna and Kinana to process, and a shared sound of revelation escaped them. "Oh yeah!"

'Oh no.' Levy thought.

"Now that I think about it, they could be cute together." Kinana chanced to say. Lisanna nodded fiercely, her gaze far away, seemingly dreaming up scenarios of Levy with this man, which raised massive red flags for her.

"No, no, no! Stop right there you two- I've never even met this guy."

"But you surely will." Kinana defended.

"Right, and when you do, you aren't to be put off by his appearance." Lisanna commanded.

"Appearance?" Levy asked, her worries not even slightly abated.

"He's a little scary looking." Kinana admitted.

They interchangeably described him, as if they'd rehearsed.

"He has piercings."

"And Tattoos."

"And long hair."

"Kind of a Rockstar sort of vibe."

"But he's not boastful."

"Yeah, he's quiet in fact."

"And sweet,"

"And Evergreen was dead on about him being ripped."

"Ok enough!" Levy commanded, silencing the barrage.

"I know you two mean well, but honestly this guy sounds like-" Levy hesitated at their expectant faces. "Well, he sounds like a gang member, and I know first and foremost how bad an idea it is to get wrapped up with people like that."

"Levy, that's an awful thing to say!" Kinana chastised.

"You'll forgive me my prejudices after what happened when I last got wrapped up with people who matched that physical description." Levy stated simply, and the two girls bowed their heads in shame, though whether it was their shame or shame on Levy, that was unclear.

"Natsu trusts him, He's not a bad guy." Lisanna stated simply.

Levy sighed, seeing their sense. "I know, I'm sorry. But equally that doesn't make me want to meet him either. Especially not to ask him to fix my alarm clock. I mean as a mechanic on cars, that surely makes him a little bit overqualified. It would be like asking a gourmet chef to make you a sloppy joe's. I don't want to waste his time, in any regard." Levy added.

Lisanna seemed to catch the red flag attached to the statement. "You aren't wasting anyone's time Levy."

A trepid silence followed, before Levy reached a compromise. "I'll introduce myself if I see him at Fairy tail tonight." Levy offered. "I may even mention my broken alarm clock." This seemed to satiate the girls and reunify the peace.

In a beat of silence, Happy gurgled happily and drew the girl's undivided attention towards himself, receiving a unanimous smile. The source of Happy's gurgling fascinations was the smiling Boss, and owner of 8-bit Island, Yajima who had come out of the Kitchen and was fully visible. Happy was leaning towards him in his seat and smiling widely at the kind-hearted old man.

"Ladies, your shifts ended quite a while ago, don't you wish to leave?" He asked having had to come out to find them to give them their pay-checks rather than the usually agreed upon opposite.

"We were just catching up Yajima-sama." Lisanna said respectfully. "We'll be on our way now."

"There's a little something extra in these envelopes today Ladies," Yajima promised handing them out. "After all the good work you do, please don't fight me on it. I insist." Now if that wasn't a weight off Levy's shoulders. The girl's let out a little celebratory cheer, giggling all the while, and Levy then and there made a silent prayer to bless everyone there in that room. She felt so undeserving of them all.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Shot out to my top reviewers- JGio23 and mooopower. They've really been motivating me to continue on with this story, so you've them to thank that this chapter exists.**

Leaving the diner, Levy loitered a bit at the door- fastening Happy's harness across his sleeping form in the old stroller. When she went on her way, she was put ill at ease as a muffled voice she didn't recognise called out to her. "Hey." They shouted from behind her, trying to get her attention.

Acting like she hadn't heard them, she sped up, not looking around. "Hey." She gained speed, pushing the pram, looking towards her feet. "What's the rush?" Her heart beat faster, then- "Levy!"

She whipped her head around to see Jet, her boss at the call centre, wearing a hurt expression. Levy caught her breath, bracing her hands on her knees, and battled with her feral heart spasming against her ribcage. "Are you alright?" Jet asked, seemingly confused at seeing her doubled over, which Levy had done in relief.

"Why are you following me?" Levy, now standing upright, interrogated him. "I never told you I work here," She realised- suspicious. "Did you follow me here?"

"Yes, I mean no! I-" The call centre owner fumbled over his words, exuding a socially anxious vibe much more than a dangerous one, but Levy wasn't taking any chances. Letting go of the stroller Levy grabbed a switch-blade from her pocket. She flipped it open, flaunting the weapon towards her employer, speaking clearly- "Did you follow me?!" She all but ululated.

He raised his hands in defence, eyes wide as saucers and set to explaining himself clearly- he started to do so with a panicked voice, three pitches too high. "Woah! No, it's just I saw you change and notic-" He was interrupted.

"You watched me change?!" Levy shouted, highly agitated. Everything she'd heard lead her to believe this guy was stalking her. She'd worked in this guy's company for a while, she couldn't believe she'd completely missed this guy creeping on her.

He seemed to take a much-needed breath of air, re-establishing his sense of decorum before trying to speak again. When he did so, he was direct and to the point, trying to avoid further confusion from the girl in front of him, who he marvelled at now. He had never seen this defiant side to her character, it was intoxicating, and he wanted to see more of it- though he knew better than to provoke it from her currently, being at knife-point and all.

"You were in a rush as you were leaving work today and you changed clothes," He broke to clarify. "Not that I saw, but you were in a rush to get to your second job, so you got changed in the staff bathrooms into your uniform." He gestured her body and she held her coat, falling off her shoulders, to her tighter, expression still sceptical. "That's how I knew I'd find you here."

"You recognised the logo of the diner on my clothes, once I was out." Levy realised, and then rebuked. "And you came unannounced to my place of work?"

Jet seemed to fluster again, desperate to get across his pure and unstalkerish intentions. "I just wanted to check that you were alright." He confided, pointing to her exposed shoulder. "That makeup you've put on your shoulder doesn't do much to cover the bruise. And, I wanted to make sure that you weren't in need of a ride to the hospital, now that the adrenaline has worn off." Levy remained hunched over, stock still and defensive for a further few seconds before seemingly melting back into a trepid calm.

"You sure are persistent." She remarked but she didn't seem to think he was dangerous anymore. And when Jet removed from his bag, a smaller bag containing frozen peas he held it out like an olive branch. He visibly relaxed when Levy put away her knife and took the bag- clutching it to her shoulder, playing her own personal nurse. Levy hissed in relief upon applying the cold to the sore area, eyes closed, and head tilted back. Jet imagined he must be staring.

After a beat of silence, Levy reaffirmed. "No hospitals, this'll be enough." She gestured to the frozen bag. Jet only looked sheepish in response, which prompted a guilty Levy to continue "Sorry for being so suspicious, it's just, you can see how this was all very invasive? -How it might look?"

Jet flapped his hands around in skittish patterns across his torso. "Of course, I should have stopped to think that it probably looked sketchy."

"Just in this neighbourhood, you can't be too careful."

"That what the knife is for?" Jet asked, testing the waters. Being an office boss in the background clearly hadn't been working to inspire this girl's attention, and this, this was the most attention Levy had ever given him. He couldn't squander it by keeping his tail between his legs.

The statement made Levy squirm if anything, giving Jet a relative edge. She replied. "I'm so sorry I pulled that on you, I usually don't carry it." She lied. "I just panicked. My self-defence training all came back to me when I thought you were stalking me." Levy stated bluntly, making no effort to equivocate to nurture Jet's broken pride. He laughed nervously.

"Don't apologise, I feel better to know you have it with you. Just in case, you were to run into genuine trouble and not some 130-pound skinny guy carrying peas." Jet hoped the self-deprecation would distract from his previous folly, but instead Levy seemed to be wrapped in infatuation with another point.

"Why do you feel better knowing I'm carrying a knife?" Levy asked, genuinely puzzled.

"You could use it to protect yourself against a sleaze. You said you've had training, so you'd be safer than you would be without it. And," Jet hesitated. "I don't want anything bad to happen to you out here." Levy seemed to not know how to process the new information.

She settled with saying- "I can defend myself." Jet gave an involuntary laugh which Levy misinterpreted as a challenge. She raised a dangerous eyebrow at him and he scrambled to explain himself.

"Trust me, I nearly fainted when you pulled the knife out on me- I've no doubt you can handle yourself. It's just sometimes, I also think, that shouldn't be your job. You ought to let someone else help you every once in a while." Jet said, eerily mimicking Lisanna's previous words without knowing it. Making Levy think the advice was perhaps more important than she'd first thought. "Or something other than your pride gets bruised." Jet continued, gesturing to the frozen peas cradling Levy's wounded socket. Levy blushed and heartily chuckled at the remark.

When all seemed clear and resolved, a palpable but not uncomfortable, silence followed. It was long enough that, during it, the wind picked up and a chill settled around Levy. She'd been icing her shoulder, so she shivered. She pulled her coat up properly for the first time that night over her tender shoulder, as she stored the packet of chilled peas in the stroller. Having seen Levy shiver, and pull her coat tighter around her, much to the protest of her injured shoulder- Jet felt confliction.

He'd thought he'd be satisfied to simply see Levy and wish her well, and show that he was in fact well meaning, regarding his involvement (however small it was) with her injury. That plan was setback a bit by his misallocation as a street-prowling creep.

Jet wondered dismally if he'd ever be able to live that down, even though he couldn't blame Levy for having jumped to conclusions. But Levy appeared grateful in the face of this concern, believing it to be genuine, rather than being dismissive. That didn't mean Jet didn't want to do more for her though, as he saw her standing there on the street corner, hugging her arms close to her, attempting to keep in the warmth. "Can I walk you home?" He offered almost instinctually.

Levy seemed politely hesitant, understandable considering the night's events leading up to that point. Jet changed tactics. "Just, if it was me who ran into anyone sketchy at this time of night, I'd like to be with someone who knows how to fight."

"And that's you, is it?" Levy challenged, raising her chin and smirking.

"Are you kidding?" Jet laughed. "No, I want to be with you," He clarified, realising how this sounded he tagged on: "so _I_ don't get mugged."

Levy's contained laughter was small but sounded to Jet like twinkling bells. He almost anticipated, with the angelic sound and the cold night chill, that snow would start falling then and there. If it did, it would surely start settling in the tresses of Levy's marine hair, and the wisps of her eyelashes, before melting away into her supple skin. Jet cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to abate the mesmerising tangent of his thoughts, of which the woman in front of him so prominently featured.

"You don't even know which direction I live in." Levy challenged, warning: "it could be well out of your way."

"I wouldn't mind that; a detour is fine." Jet stated simply, and a part of Levy's guard seemed to chip away, and as it crumbled Levy couldn't help but feel guilty for all the assumptions she'd made about this guy. He had kept taking initiative today to be kind to her, even after some of his actions weren't well received- he seemed to persistently stick his neck out for her. That aroused a sort of instinctual response in Levy. _He wants to take care of you. and more importantly, He might be able to._

Either way Levy could no longer just look at the man as a nuisance. A bit skittish and socially awkward but well meaning, caring, endearing. Levy found herself beaming a shy smile his way and avoiding his eye as she looked to the ground while her face flushed. Selfishly, she couldn't help also wondering, when her eyes ventured back up to his, if coupled with all his enthusiasm he could fix alarm clocks. Levy subconsciously chastised herself for letting her mind run away like that.

rather flustered she started walking down the street, turning back and tipping her head silently gesturing for him to follow.

"Is that permission?" Jet stuttered, unsure if he could follow and cautious not to recreate a misunderstanding like previously. Levy just leaned against the weight of the stroller starting to move again, laughing out over her shoulder with resounding assurance and mock annoyance. "Yes, come on!"

Knowing she wouldn't be looking back at him, and therefore wouldn't see, Jet allowed himself a moment to place his hands together in mock prayer and mouth towards the sky 'Thank you' and then ran after Levy in the direction she'd gone, whispering to himself "Suck on that, Droy."

Of a morning, from her road, Levy took the 35 bus into town. In town she would walk to Happy's preschool and drop him off before then walking (or in today's case, running) to the call centre for her shift. When her shift ended, she'd walk back to Happy's preschool and collect him. The two would then walk a few blocks to get to the nearest station for the L. Having boarded the L, it would take the two past their neighbourhood. But time being of the essence between her shifts- Levy couldn't drop happy, with Wendy at home, so he accompanied her to her waitressing job at '8-bit'. From there the two were a long distance from town but well within walking distance of their neighbourhood so, after Levy's waitressing Job, she would walk home with Happy asleep in the pram, however usually the two were not accompanied.

Walking back to Levy's neighbourhood now, she was talking with Jet and trying to explain to him her usual travel arrangements- understandably Jet kept getting lost as she was relaying it to him. After a while she gave up trying to articulate her exact journey instead resorting to a memorised short-hand version. "It's walk to bus stop. Bus to town. Walk to preschool. Walk to call centre. Walk to Preschool. Walk to train station. L to quadrant. Walk to '8-bit'. Walk back home." Levy stated to a perplexed Jet, walking along at a leisurely gait at her side, he gave her his full attention despite feeling very out of depth (and Levy hadn't even mentioned her transportation to and from her third job). But Jet was fairly certain he'd be enthralled by even a continuous reading of the digits of pi if it was by her voice- he could listen to her all day.

Jet chanced at repeating the schedule back at Levy, knowing full well he'd fail "So... Walk. Bus. Walk. Walk. Walk. L. Walk. Walk?"

"No," Levy interrupted him laughing. "There's four walks between the bus and L." She lightly scolded.

"Aha, but only three journeys. You go to the preschool with your son twice." Jet challenged.

Laughing openly, Levy countered, "Yes, twice. Precisely- meaning two trips."

Jet chuckled at her passion in proving him wrong and marvelled at how uplifting she was being about her difficulties with transport. She was manipulating her struggle with getting from place to place into making a memory game- providing upbeat conversation for them. She'd changed her inconvenient situation into a positive for their shared benefit. She was remarkable. It made him want to blow out all of his savings and buy her a car, so she would never again have to struggle with walks through rough neighbourhoods and train or bus fares again. But he knew he really shouldn't do anything of so great a magnitude lest he scare her away. Jet was ripped from his musings when out of the silence Levy announced: "Happy isn't my son, by the way."

Levy couldn't quite pin down why exactly she felt inclined to correct Jet on her relationship with Happy, when she let so many others reach their own conclusions. If someone put a gun to her head, demanding Levy explain why Jet was an exception to her usual rule, she would say she had just felt that some degree of transparency, that he'd offered her, ought to be returned. The admission seemed to have peaked Jet's curiosity and he made a noise of inquiry. "Oh?"

"He's my baby brother." Levy elaborated, and Jet seemed appeased and yet inquisitive.

"I was going to say, given the likeness between the two of you, I was sure you had to be related."

"It's the hair." Levy agreed. She again strangely felt the need for clarification. "But, I don't have any children- I just look after my siblings."

"Sorry," Jet said anxiously. "I just assumed given how caring you are towards him that he was yours with an old or current boyfriend-"

Jet was caught off guard by Levy laughing out loud "Boyfriend?" She chuckled with a disbelieving tone. "I don't have a boyfriend." Jet felt a relief screaming in his chest like cheers at a football stadium, upon hearing the words. Levy continued. "I thought it was painfully obvious." She mulled to herself.

"You exude independence and self-reliance very much, yes." Jet agreed, gulping down before he continued. "But you're so gorgeous, I thought guys would be tripping over themselves at the chance to be your boyfriend."

Levy didn't know how to react, she kind of just stopped walking and averted her eyes from Jet. She took a long moment thinking about what to say in response which translated as agony for Jet. Finally, she said-

"I've had offers, but I've never been looking for a boyfriend in the past," A look of soft pity settled on Levy's features "and that hasn't really changed." And with that Jet was crushed, or at least he felt like it. "I just really have to focus on the people who are already in my life. I'm spread too thin as it is." Levy said real remorse on her face, and her address grew more and more personal. "Sorry Jet, you're a great guy." Jet knew he could no longer cover this up as anything other than what it was- this had been his confession and it had, though not unkindly, been rejected. He decided to accept this fact, but goddamn if it didn't suck!

"I understand, Levy. I hope this doesn't change anything regarding our workplace relationship. If it does feel free to speak to Droy and we can reach a solution." Levy seemed grateful for this. "Can I walk you the rest of the way home?" Jet asked, and his chivalry cut Levy up inside. _He's a good guy, he doesn't deserve you treating him like this._ Levy internally berated herself.

"Sorry," Levy replied "but that's my house there." She pointed towards the house two houses down from where the two were standing. They had reached the end of their journey.

The house Levy lived in, Jet observed, was small, with a run-down porch and peeling painted wood boards and yet to him it looked like a mansion- one which he wouldn't ever be invited into. Jet turned to leave wordlessly but abandoning her hold on the stroller, Levy grabbed Jet by the wrist as he turned away, freezing him in place, she eased herself around the stroller, so she was facing him. Then standing up on tippy toes she planted a sweet, simple kiss on Jet's cheek. His heart leapt and dived at the action, her fingers burning into his hand. She retracted and mutedly apologised. "I'm sorry for being so suspicious of you earlier, you really are a great guy." She pulled away then taking her warmth with her. Rather detachedly she said, "I'll see you at work tomorrow." As one would to any co-worker.

Jet watched Levy walk away and go into her house with the buggy and did not turn to leave until she closed the door after her. Jet looked haplessly up into the now twilight sky and whispered to himself, "Well done, Jet. You blew it."

Levy shut the door and leant her back against it, letting out an almighty sigh. She defiantly scrunched her eyes shut and kept them that way. She wondered to herself how she kept hurting the people around her without ever having meant to. Levy was sure that the path to hell was gilded with good intentions, only furthering the sting from her actions.

But Levy wouldn't allow herself to dwell- she'd sort out the kids, go to the bar, go do her shift at the club, come back, and read until she fell asleep. Then she'd do it all tomorrow, and the next day. And the next. From now, until forever. Happy giggled happily at her from the stroller and she opened her eyes to see him reaching for her. She could keep going, if for nothing else, for him.

Moving to pick Happy up, Levy noticed that the house was in a strange state of darkness, what with the growing overcast outside, anyone who was home would've been forced to turn on the lights to see properly. Levy mulled to herself that Wendy should be home for hours now and surely would have turned the lights on. She could only conclude that Wendy had gone against her expressed wishes and somehow gone to the Northside girl's house. Angry at her sister's very out of character, newfound blatant disobedience, Levy moved around now in the dark, grappling for the light switch, holding Happy on her hip.

In her annoyance, at not being able to see eye to eye with her sister, Levy moved around with exaggerated motions such as slamming doors and kicking Happy's strewn about toys out of her war path. The motions made lots of noise. So much so, that Levy did not hear the sniffling coming from the front room. Even as she walked in, she didn't notice until she turned the lights on.

With a flick of the light switch the room was now well lit, and Levy heard crying as it grew louder. "Don't look!" Came a teary voice behind her. Levy whipped around to see a tuft of dark blue hair wrapped in blankets, in a meek ball, shying away at the foot of the couch. "Wendy?" Levy inquired, dread settling in her stomach at hearing her younger sister crying, having found her alone cowering in a dark room. Wendy unwrapped the blanket from around her face to reveal tear tracks along her cheeks, but these were not what drew Levy's attention.

The older girl's heart stopped, and time seemed to cease, as she crouched by her sister who now sported a black eye, a split lip and a laceration on her forehead. Happy started crying in Levy's hold, and Levy saw red, as Wendy managed to say meekly "I got hurt."


	6. Chapter 6

Hatred twisted Levy's viscera into knots, upon hearing the shaky words shockwave from her sister's mouth. The older girl's eyes smouldered dangerously staring into the wall behind Wendy's head, seemingly far away. Levy envisioned the person who had hurt her sister and fantasised about them being stabbed, shot and, choked- all by her hand. Levy would draw blood, if not final breath, for this injury to her sister.

Levy knew of course, someone was to blame. There was someone to focus her rage towards because the carnage painted on Wendy's face was no accident. Levy recognised it as orchestrated, she could almost see the outline of a fist in the bruise adorning Wendy's eye. She recognised the signs of attack in her sister's face, welling with tears- so similar to when she'd seen them in her own.

Wendy, her baby sister- harmless, sweet, Wendy had been assaulted- plain and simple.

This knowledge chewed Levy up with a practically inconceivable aching. Where had Levy been when this had happened? Surely this could have been prevented? Could Levy have done something? Could she help now? And who was to blame?

Who was to blame? Perhaps in the grander picture, Levy was at fault. Maybe it was due to the responsibility Levy bestowed on Wendy to get around on her own, on unsafe streets- their residence in a rough neighbourhood that Levy couldn't afford to escape from however desperately she wanted them to. Perhaps Levy's ineptitude was a factor in this. But the much more palpable blame could fall on whoever had laid their hand on Levy's sister. Her own guilt could wait, before then there would be blood. Levy's rage flared and cooled, all of these thoughts rising and submerging themselves within a blink.

Levy's anger never lessened but as she looked her sister in the eye, she hid her fury, instead adopting a maternal gaze. She had to calm Wendy who was growing hysterical with tears, and she had to find out the identity of her attacker. So that she could rain hell-fire on the lowlife who'd struck Wendy. Wendy was almost inconsolable, shaking and desperately clinging her bed sheets to her tear stained cheeks.

Levy enveloped Wendy in a soothing hug, which Wendy all but melted into. Levy stroked her hands through her sister's soft hair and shushed into her ear as she emitted gasping but steadily receding cries. Levy wiped the tears from Wendy's tender cheek with care and precision. She dotted soft kisses on Wendy's brow along the base of the cut there. The atmosphere of love was effective in slowly abating Wendy's crying to a mild sniffling. Now Levy could be heard as she asked the key question: "Who did this Wendy?" Wendy scrunched up her face seemingly on the precipice of a tearful explosion. Levy persevered, despite seeing her sister in this condition, understandably making her own chest tighten. "Who hurt you Wendy, did you know them, did you see their face?"

"It was a boy from school." Wendy managed to clarify, alluding to Levy that this wasn't just a random street crime. Perhaps Wendy had been targeted, Levy dreaded- but what school boy would be capable of inflicting such injuries?

"What did he do?" Levy asked trying to gain some clarity.

"He just hit me in the face," Wendy started, raising a red flag from Levy upon hearing the word 'just', such must have been evident on Levy's face because Wendy started to explain. "He'd gotten angry at something I'd done, and he lost his temper, he's always losing it in class- even at the smallest things. So, he hit me, but we were near some stairs and I fell down." Tears stared pooling in Wendy's eyes, she continued regardless. "It split my lip and forehead when I fell, I think he panicked because he ran off and as soon as I got up I ran home. It was the end of the school day."

Levy knew the final remark was a testament of how undeserving Wendy had been of this boy's treatment. Even now, in the wake of the injuries to her face, Wendy felt inclined to tell Levy that she hadn't bunked off school. Wendy had practically never broken a rule in her life- it was proof of how great a kid she is. Wendy had backbone of course, and when you told her to do something she didn't like she'd fight her corner against it, but ultimately, she'd do as you said. She respected authority and it made her seem wise beyond her years. An example of this was the fact that Wendy was here at all, when she could have gone against Levy's wishes earlier today and ventured to the North side to see her new friend. If she had, maybe she wouldn't be hurt, Levy pondered irrationally.

The way Wendy was talking however, Levy worried that she was making excuses for this boy's behaviour and assigning herself non-existent blame. Levy acted quickly to convince Wendy of the absurdity of this. "Whatever 'issues' this boy has Wendy," Levy said, voice dripping malice. "that is no excuse for him to lay a hand on you. Do you understand? No-one is ever allowed to hit you, not ever."

"I put up a fight," Wendy offered. "But I also kind of provoked him, with what I said."

"It doesn't matter, and he isn't getting away with it. What's his name?" Levy asked.

After some deliberation Wendy disclosed his name as: "Romeo Conbolt."

Levy knew the name, of course she did, and hearing it briefly made her rethink her angle. "This kid is Macao's son?" Levy asked, receiving a nod in confirmation.

Everybody knew Macao. He used to be at Levy's local bar every night. He was a likeable, morally driven kind-of-guy. He made it his business to overhear when you were having a hard time, and then of course he'd do his best to intervene. He'd helped out Levy with favours often, and he was always so casual about it that Levy never felt too bad about owing him a debt- she felt she could trust him, everyone did. And no-one trusted him more than his, at the time, wide eyed, excitable son, Romeo. Levy had seen them together at the bar sometimes- Macao gave Romeo all his attention whenever he was in a room. The two were a ray of hope in a neighbourhood over run with deadbeat, absent fathers and hooligan sons. The pair exuded happiness and balance. But then Macao's wife, Romeo's mother, died.

It turns out that, what the family emitted from the surface did not represent their situation in full. Macao had been struggling with money, and to cope he had borrowed from some loan sharks in the drug cartels. When Macao couldn't pay up like he'd been expected to, a band of this mafia gang was given the job to shadow and intimidate Macao's wife, so she'd convince her husband to pay up. It did not go to plan.

They followed her leaving a grocery store and cornered her in an alley. What they didn't account for though, was the woman to have some backbone. She behaved admirably not bending to the ruffians mindlessly but still being compliant so not to put herself in harm's way unnecessarily and provoke violence. But in the group, there had been a nervous rookie, too eager for confrontation, after an intense shouting match with the others, this one, shot Macao's wife dead at close range. In the chaos, the scoundrels ran away, and when she fell, her groceries fell all over the dirty alley floor with her. The eggs broke, milk spilt into the gutter stained red, and a boxed pregnancy test rolled from her bag under the dumpster.

She was found according to the police reports, approximately three hours after her death, by a young woman who was taking a shortcut away from the quadrant where she worked. The girl was shaken when she had called in the crime, and pointlessly, she had tearfully asked for an ambulance for the long dead woman. When she was questioned by police she didn't have much intel to give, though she could identify the victim, naming her as someone she knew, 'Verona Conbolt'. When she gave her statement to a police officer, she was wearing a blood stained '8-bit Island' uniform.

In the wake of Verona's death, Macao was no longer frequenting the bar, it was plain to see his grief was destroying him. He blamed himself for his wife's death and distanced himself from Romeo. Romeo got quiet. At the funeral was the last time Levy had seen either of them, the three shared no words. Because what _could_ they say?

Months later the patrons had started airing rumours about Macao at Levy's bar, which was now much emptier without the company of Macao and Romeo- who'd stopped visiting it. The rumours stated, Macao was agonising over police reports concerning his Wife's case and had plans to take some action into finding her killer.

Surely enough, a few weeks later the main news story was that Macao and his long-time friend Wakaba had, in secret, shot up a warehouse full of gang members, any of which may or may not have been Verona's murderer. The two had been caught however and had each landed themselves a minimum of thirty years in prison. Macao was in prison now and Levy had learnt from the bar that Macao had managed to cheat the social services into getting Romeo to stay with one of his friends outside of the city. Who this was though Levy had no clue, she didn't envy them for the job of raising an emotionally stagnant Romeo, but they had clearly failed the boy in some way for him to be beating on girls in his class as soon as he was back from a break in the country. Levy would be having words with whoever this person was, she owed Verona that much- to make sure that her son didn't get encouraged to become some woman beater. There had to be consequences. She would tell Wendy as much.

"Is Romeo living at his dad's old place again?" Levy asked a seemingly-caught-out Wendy, who merely nodded, but it became clear that she caught up to Levy's train of thought, when Levy stood and journeyed over to the stroller- now housing Happy and her jacket. Both of these she picked up, along with the now lukewarm bag of peas from Jet, handing it to Wendy, who held it to her tender face. Levy expertly moved Happy to her hip while putting on her jacket. Wendy began to object. "No Levy, you can't go over there!"

"Whoever is looking after him has something serious to answer for Wendy, and so does he, no-one gets away with hitting you." She reasserted, making for the door, knowing Macao's house was only a few blocks down the street. "Don't," Wendy practically begged, chasing after her. "You don't know who's over there." This gave Levy pause as she turned to her sister who continued. "I was at the lockers today and the girls got to talking about having seen Romeo's father in the neighbourhood, and I set the record straight saying Macao's in prison."

"And he heard you." Levy realised. Wendy nodded sadly. "I didn't mean anything by it, it's true after all, but it got to him and he responded in kind."

"In kind?" Levy questioned. Wendy suddenly adopted a stern face.

"He called my mom a blue bottle whore who dances in clubs with her butt out, and he said that she had kids way too young with anybody who would pay her." Levy didn't know what to say.

"He must have tried to talk about Monica to get back at you for talking about Macao." Levy concluded, but she was taken off guard when met with a dry unprecedented hollow laugh from her sister.

"You don't get it," Wendy started. "Romeo's never met Monica! He thought that you-" Wendy cut herself off, overcome with anger it seemed, her fists balled unable to articulate what was so plainly obvious. "I wasn't going to let him talk about you that way." Wendy whispered finally, then admitting- "Then when I met him on the stairs later, I insulted the guy who's his guardian now. Which lead to this." She gestured to her face, pillowed by the bag of peas. Levy stepped slightly away from the front door. "Levy," Wendy implored. "Whoever the man is that's over there, I've heard he's bad news."

Levy got down on her knees in front of Wendy adjusting Happy as she did so. Levy reached out with her free hand and brushed a strand of hair from her younger sister's face. "Alright Wend, I'll stay here. Let's just focus on getting you cleaned up, okay?" Wendy nodded, relieved.

Levy ran the sink in the kitchen and washed the dishes. Wendy dried them as they stacked up on the rack, much to Levy's protest. "Stay on the couch and rest." She'd said, but she had to concede, the chore had been completed quicker with Wendy's help. The dishes done, Levy's true objective could be fulfilled.

In between running the sink the first and second time, Levy dropped Juvia a text "Urgent: Come home, now, Please."

The basin filled slowly the second time, Levy carefully regulated the temperature- not wanting to scald her sister's already hypersensitive skin. She had Wendy sit on top of their woodworm eaten, kitchen table. She soaked a cloth and, with an unrivalled gentleness, washed her sister's face. The cloth came away in places slightly discoloured, but Levy washed it in the sink quickly, trying to keep it out of Wendy's view. When it stung, Wendy grasped Levy's hand- in places the intimate washing felt like a baptism, Levy almost had to restrain herself from drawing the cross on Wendy's forehead in blessing.

Levy let her sister dry her face on their cleanest looking towel, and quickly checked she still had full view of Happy watching cartoons in the other room on the little TV, just as she'd done a lifetime ago- he looked happy.

Wendy giggled at Levy's expense when the older girl had to climb onto the counter to reach the first-aid kit stored overhead. Levy pouted and mock-lectured her sister not to laugh at people's insecurities (hers being her short stature) as she applied steri-strips to her sister's forehead and coolants to reduce swelling. Wendy giggled the whole time and pointed out how close she was to growing past Levy's height despite her age. Levy was just happy she was laughing.

Levy stabbed open the bag of peas with more violence than perhaps necessary. They fell out chaotically as if in a pin ball machine hitting one another and the pan on the hob of the stove. Mixed with some water she boiled them and simultaneously grilled some frozen 'turkey-hotdogs' and buttered some bread. She sporadically looked into the other room, where Wendy was now minding Happy and simultaneously completing her homework. Levy also checked her phone, no reply from Juvia. Lost in thought as to what could be so important that Juvia hadn't come home, Levy almost missed both the alarms for her foods going off at once, she moved without thinking and scalded herself a little with boiling pea-water, she yelped out and cursed under her breath. Momentarily, once recovered, she retrieved the slightly burnt turkey dogs and drained the peas that she'd thieved earlier in the night from her generous boss. She then called in the kids for their mismatched dinner.

Checking her phone as the kids ate, seeing Juvia still hadn't replied, Levy almost missed Wendy's question. "Aren't you going to eat something Levy?" Brought back to reality, Levy passed Happy in his high chair more peas to eat and a Happy-sized fistful of soft bread.

"Sure," Levy lied. "But I'll get some later at the guild." The guild was the colloquial name for "Fairy Tail" the local bar which she'd visit later, if Juvia ever got home to mind the kids.

"Well, be sure you do." Wendy said sceptically before adding: "I think I'm going to go to bed now, it's been a long day." She stood up and took her cleared plate to the side, when she passed Happy she kissed him on the head. "Goodnight." She called.

"Hey, Wend." Levy interrupted, successfully halting her. "Does that Northside girl you're friends with have a name?"

"Chelia" Wendy confided.

"Well, if you want to visit Chelia, we'll go on the El one day together." Levy promised.

"Really?" Wendy asked, elated.

"Yeah, and I'll wear my best clothes, so I don't embarrass you." Levy promised.

Wendy ran over and hugged her sister. "Thanks, Levy. I love you." Wendy retreated after, up the stairs to bed and somehow Levy felt a weight from the evening dissolved in her.

She looked at her phone; No reply from Juvia. Levy looked at Happy, there'd need to be a change of plans. The weight was back.

Levy bolted the front door shut behind her, secured as quietly as she could so as not to wake up Wendy. Happy gurgled quietly on Levy's hip. This hadn't been Levy's plan. If Juvia had gotten home, there's no way in hell Happy would be with her. This was stupid, she knew and bringing him would only put him at risk. But he couldn't be unobserved- she couldn't leave knowing he might cry, and wake Wendy, who'd then see her gone. Levy needed to do this she resolved, tightening her hold on the baseball bat in her other hand and holding Happy close to her side. No-one is allowed to hit Wendy, and Levy would see, that whoever was holed up in The Conbalt household knew this as surely as she did.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Shout outs to Kgvision and mooopower who took time out of their day to review the last chapter. A lot of people seem to be anticipating an event upcoming in this chapter- I hope you enjoy.**

Before she went inside, Levy investigated the Conbalt house through the grimy window. It looked like a regular bachelor pad, clothes were strewn about in the front room, there were open pizza boxes, and what looked like a school bag was dumped in the corner. The more permanent affects of the DVDs on the TV stand, and a guitar and an impressive record collection in the corner however, were fairly organised and kept in good condition. Levy deduced from the pattern whoever was minding Romeo now, was an organised person but didn't pressure Romeo to be one also, and definitely didn't clean up his messes for him. Levy looked in at the scene slightly saddened. The place looked as though it were missing a woman's touch, as Levy knew for a long time it had been. No-one was in the front room, so when Levy approached the door she knocked with high force to be sure she'd be heard. She waited a few moments, then Romeo Conbalt opened the door.

"Who are you?" Romeo asked in an annoyed tone, eyes shielded by his now overgrown dark bangs. He looked older than Levy remembered him being two years ago. With bags under his eyes and a permanent pout, he seemed the typical apathetic moody teen. Levy would suffer none of his questions, sullen silence or reverence. She made this clear when she pushed back the door with her baseball bat and stomped past an unprepared Romeo into the house. "What the hell Lady? You can't just waltz in he-" he didn't finish.

"I'm the blue bottle whore whose sister you beat up!" She announced loudly. After a while of confusion, probably due to her wording, a flash of realisation crossed Romeo's face, he seemed frustrated and guilty. His hand flew up to sheepishly rub the back of his neck. He asked, "Is Wendy okay?"

Angry, Levy laughed bitterly to herself. "Oh no, you don't get to ask that question! Where's the man that looks after you?"

"Upstairs in the shower." Romeo said. Levy, now that she listened, could hear the water climb up the house's exhausted pipes.

"Then we'll wait until he's out to have a discussion about your behaviour, sit down." Levy instructed. Romeo didn't move, except from crossing his arms in defiance. Levy's anger flared, the two stared each other down before Levy swung the bat down on a table top corner to her left and took a chunk of wood away. The suddenness of it caused Romeo to flinch and Happy burst out in tears safely perched in her other arm. "Sit down!" Levy shouted at Romeo, who this time fearfully complied. Levy didn't hear it, but upstairs the water shut off.

Levy paced backwards and forwards along the front room, eying Romeo who was steadily making himself smaller and smaller. Levy started her lecture early- having wanted to wait until Romeo's illusive guardian was present, but she could no longer. "Just where the hell did you learn to beat on girls, Romeo? I know it wasn't from your Dad, so what on earth makes you think that's okay?"

"I don't." Romeo responded meekly. "I'm sorry, tell Wendy I'm sorry- I just got angry."

"You think that's an upstanding excuse? You think your father was never angry? You think he ever took it out on your mother?" Levy challenged.

Romeo's eyes burned over in anger again. "Don't talk about my mother like you knew her!"

"But I did know her, and I know she'd be ashamed of you for having hit a woman." Romeo, himself, looked ashamed. Levy continued. "And I know Macao had plenty to be angry about in his life, Jesus did he ever, and you do too, but he never took it out on someone innocent."

"No," Romeo agreed. "He took it out on the bastards responsible and got himself taken away. He didn't care about what happened to me."

This gave Levy pause. She remembered Macao carrying Romeo around on his shoulders at Fairy Tail. Levy held Happy, who was still crying closer to her side, bopping up and down softly to console him. "Your father loved you, but he let his anger at those drug runners consume him. He lost what mattered. You can't let your anger lead you to do-" Levy couldn't finish, she didn't know what to say.

"Things I'll regret." Romeo concluded. Levy sent him a toxic look, disbelieving of his remorse over his actions against Wendy.

"There's no way you can make it up to her, do you understand me? You've frightened her. You just stay away from her from now on." Levy brandished the bat in Romeo's direction, he looked awfully dejected. Upstairs, floor boards creaked as someone moved around.

What followed was another silence and Levy paced some more, this time moving her weight from one foot to the other to rock and soothingly shush Happy back into quiet. She dried his pinked tearstained cheeks and smoothed his hair, he wasn't crying anymore. Romeo watched the whole maternal display, as it had been, for a long time, very foreign to him. He felt inclined to comment.

"I thought you were Wendy's mom." Romeo stated.

Levy frowned and pouted. "I'm twenty-two." She supposed she must look old to this young boy with his whole life ahead of him, that is, if he didn't throw it away.

"My dad knew you right?" Romeo questioned seemingly trying to place a name to her face.

"I knew him from Fairy Tail, I'm Levy." Realisation dawned on Romeo's face.

"Oh yeah, I remember you now, I saw you around. Dad said you ran into trouble with those drug cartels too, like he did." Levy fidgeted uncomfortably. "That was a long time ago." Was the only explanation she gave.

Romeo seemed pleased though, a youthful gleam was restored to his eye and he stood up off the sofa and started running into the kitchen saying: "Well then maybe you know something about this." Levy followed him into the kitchen where Romeo unpacked from a drawer a buddle of newspaper headlines that Macao had no doubt started to collect in his search for his wife's killer. But it seemed Romeo had kept up the practice as there was one headline dated just two days ago which Romeo pointed at now. It read: "Suspected drug running as far in land as the 5th region of the Chicago docks, Police warn". Levy involuntarily shivered and clutched Happy closer to her side. "What do you think?" Romeo queried. Levy mulled over her response before saying, "I think it means they're getting a whole lot closer to home." This seemed to please Romeo who stated: "Yeah, Gajeel said the same thing."

This confused Levy, who started to say so, but didn't finish. She recognised the name from Lisanna this afternoon at the diner and wanted to know how Romeo knew him as well. "Wait, how do you know-?"

Suddenly, from the other room arose an expletive in a deep voice. "Who the fuck took a dent out of my fucking counter?"

Levy picked up the bat she'd let rest on the kitchen table and started walking back into the front room. As she went she said, "The boy you're looking after _miste_ r, assaulted my sister at school today and I want to see proof that you don't condone such behaviour." By the time she finished she could see what looked like a black mass of solid hair (still slightly wet from the shower) crouched down seemingly inspecting the damage she'd inflicted on the counter.

The man slowly rose, and rose, and rose as he stood- so Levy first realised how tall this man was and was suddenly reminded of Wendy's warnings that this man was a danger. When he turned around, so Levy could see his face, she knew Wendy had been right.

Levy forgot how to breathe.

She knew this man, recognised him in a heartbeat. They had a history, one she'd rather forget. Her blood ran cold as he glanced at her, giving her a once over. Just as quickly he looked away. Levy realised then that he didn't remember her- hopefully, Levy could keep it that way. Her mile a minute mind started asking itself questions. _How can he be here after all this time? How was I stupid enough to walk into his house? What am I still doing here?!_ She was in fight or flight mode now, she eyed the front door, which seemed to be miles from where she currently stood. Levy developed a mental image of herself running for the door. She wouldn't make the distance before he'd catch up with her, with his long stride- she knew _that_ from experience. In the time it took her to voice objection, he could snap her neck. _How did I get myself into this situation? How could I be so stupid as to bring Happy?!_ The nape of her neck pooling with sweat, her heart spasmed in her chest.

Levy tried to breathe normally as he turned his gaze a few metres behind her to where Romeo was standing, his glance hardened- his red eyes, which Levy deemed the devil's eyes, filled with anger.

"Is this true kid? D'you hit her sister?" The man asked. Romeo fidgeted behind Levy, who instead was as still as a statue not daring to breathe heavily, lest she draw unwanted attention.

"I'm sorry, I got angry." Romeo said, as timidly as a mouse. This didn't stop the man from growling out like a predator. "I don't care how angry you get. You get angry you hit a fucking wall, not a woman. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir." Romeo said meekly. Both of them were shocked when Levy let out a hollow laugh, that evolved into something almost hysteric, looking at the man in front of her, she also pushed a confused Romeo to stand further behind her, using her body like a shield. " _Really_?" she announced after a few hollower laughs. "That's your philosophy now is it? Hitting a woman isn't acceptable?"

"Of course it ain't, Lady." The man defended.

Levy then got more defiant and defensive and her expression melted into something attuned to disgust. "Maybe you should look at who you're talking to before you make that claim _Kurogane_! Or did you forget when you beat me to an inch of my life?" Levy's eyes pooled with tears now, conflicted between outrage that after what he'd done to her, this man didn't even remember her, and fear of what he could do to her, again now, so easily. A single tear cascaded down her cheek as she kept eye contact with the man she knew as Kurogane.

His memory was seemingly awoken by the mention of his old codename. Having not heard it in years, he was transported back to _that_ time and all the things he'd done under that name. Taking in the woman's blue hair and crying face he remembered her. He said with a softness Levy'd never heard him use, "You're Jose's Canary." He almost whispered the revelation.

This enraged the woman who shed more tears and in a choked tone, with high volume- declared, "I'm not Jose's anything!" then to herself quieter she repeated it like a mantra, "I'm not his anything."

Kurogane didn't blink, eyes know trained solely on the woman in front of him. He walked a little towards her. He was just as she'd remembered, and of course the memory had stuck with her. She remembered he'd been sent to rough her up. She remembered how he'd towered over her, how she'd been inside the front room of her house in the dark and he'd rained blows down on her consecutively. She remembered how she'd tried to run over the couch to get away from him, she remembered how he'd dragged her to the door frame between her kitchen and front room. She didn't want to remember.

The man himself had red eyes, facial piercings, a tattoo of a dragon around his left wrist, scars hatched up his forearms, a mane of black hair and he wore dark clothes. Underneath all that he looked young- a few years older than she was perhaps. He had a bone structure that you might have called handsome, but to Levy his cheeks looked hollowed and his eyes unfeeling. As he stepped towards her she stepped back and raised the bat in a shaking hand. A pitiful, watery "no." Left her lips.

"You came into my house Lady and started breaking shit." Kurogane defended. "I Haven't done a thing to you since you got here, alright?"

"I Just came so he wouldn't hurt Wendy again." Levy admitted, clutching onto Happy tightly, who'd now spotted her distress and was bubbling up again with little tears of his own.

"I'll make sure he won't." Kurogane said, levelling a poignant glare at a confused Romeo behind her.

"After what you've done, I don't believe you." Levy said. Kurogane paused.

"You know what, that's probably fair." He mumbled to himself. A silence followed.

Levy took this as her prompt to leave, she all but ran to the front door and found she couldn't undo the automatic latch while holding both Happy and the bat. The man now stood behind her saw this as well and seemingly made a move to help undo the latch. Seeing this in her periphery, she threw the bat down abandoning it, so she could get out before he got near her, she slammed the door shut leaving the bat behind her. Kurogane watched through the dirty window as The Canary flew away down the street holding her kid close to her the whole time. He stared after her, wallowing in regret. He remembered what he'd done to her all too well.

When he was younger, the last thing he'd meant was to get into gang shit, but with a build like his in a neighbourhood this rough he hadn't stood a chance. He'd learnt most of his trade from his father, but by the time he'd up and left when he was fourteen, he was on his own. So that's where it began, some pimp looking old motherfucker came to him when he was down on his luck, he offered him an out- so he'd said yes. He'd been given the codename Kurogane and he'd regretted it every day since.

A good few years after joining The Phantom gang, he had a good idea about its full operations. He knew about the strip clubs on 109th street and 53rd west that functioned as rendezvous points for deals. He knew about the abandoned underground trainline (The council having favoured the over ground L) where drugs were stored ready for transport. He knew about the dock points in the 1st and 3rd region where deals were struck, and product moved. And he also knew the North side address of Jose, the gang leader and mob boss in charge of the whole of Phantom's operations. He knew these places because he'd been paid to work security on operations going down in these locations. While he'd beaten on guys for necessary info and sometimes just for kicks, that's all he was in the grand scheme of things, muscle, but well-paid muscle. Through observation he did however understand the workings of the operation.

Being well-acquainted with all those locations, it was no surprise to _Kurogane_ when he was summoned to Jose's house in the North side.

"I need you to rough somebody up." Jose had announced, sitting in his lavish office surrounded by expensive looking tasteless furnishings. He still dressed like a pimp even years later, all these things grated him about the man, but he responded as politely as possible.

"How rough we talking?" He asked for clarification.

Jose gave a repulsive smile, "Almost as rough as it gets, but don't leave her comatose or kill her. I want her alive."

He nearly choked as he asked, "Her?"

Jose found this amusing, that it'd been something _The_ Kurogane, with a reputation for being as ruthless and incorrigible as smoke, had picked up on. "Will that be a problem?"

It was. He'd never hit a woman in his life, but he couldn't let Jose know this, he'd see it as a weakness.

"No, just tell me her name. Wouldn't want to get the wrong broad." He said recovering his aura of nonchalance.

"You know the woman who handles the finances, the one they call my Blue Canary?" He knew her, everyone had seen her around, she looked young, fresh out of high school. She had a shock of blue hair and was pretty, but no-one actually believed she did any management of the financials, they all assumed Jose just kept her around as a pretty face. This fact made him repulsed by Jose even more. This girl was probably just about ages with him if not younger. That would make Jose more than twice her age, talk about fucked up. When he'd seen her, she looked timid as a leaf, he didn't even think he'd seen her open her mouth. So, being as harmless as that what could she have done to warrant a beat down?

"I'll handle it, but can I ask what she's done?" Kurogane asked.

"You never have before." Jose pointed out, before answering vaguely, "She let me down, you know what happens to people who let me down."

"Where can I find her?" Kurogane asked. Jose seemed satisfied at his getting back to business. He passed him a piece of paper on which was written two addresses.

"She has a North side address," Jose said pointing at the top one. "But she knows I'm after her, so she's likely fled there and has gone back to her parents' house in the Southside. You can't miss it, it's a heap. God! She was nothing before I came along, Nothing! And this is the thanks I get."

Kurogane had never seen Jose so obsessed over something. "I'll try the second address" he said, in lieu of what he really wanted to do- which was punch in the old man's face in, until he had to eat through a straw. He made a move to leave but Before he was out the door, Jose called again. "Kurogane," He paused a little and looked back. "Don't let me down, will you?" Jose said.

He left, a cold shiver running down his back.

When he'd reached the second address it turned out to be decrepit, but not nearly as much as Jose had made out. That making other people seem less than him, that Jose did, really pissed him off.

He scouted out the building's exits- there was the front door and then a back door out of what looked like the kitchen, He found a garden chair nearby, which he quietly lodged under the back door handle, so it couldn't be opened from the inside. He knew his target was inside, as he could hear her through the door seemingly on the phone. "No Juvia, I don't think he'll come to the house tonight, but you can't be too careful so just pack up the bags get Wendy and go where I told you." A pause. "Juvia, he's not after you, he's after me." The woman let out a sigh. "I know, I'm sorry I hadn't planned for this. I need to stay here. If I am gone you can manage without me."

He'd heard enough, he went around to the front door, he walked onto the porch which creaked under his weight, he must have been heard, because he heard the girl end the phone call with a rushed voice. He sighed and rolled his eyes back into his head and furrowed his eyebrows upon hearing the woman battle with the back door. 'Let's get this over with' He thought, then slammed into the door and broke its lock open.

The door swung into the wall, the girl's head whipped around at the cacophonous noise briefly before she kept trying the back door. Getting frustrated, she hit and kicked the glass panelling but her open palm just slid off it, frictionless. Realising it's pointlessness, she instead ran to her kitchen counter and grabbed a knife in her clutches towards the man advancing on her. She spun too late however, and he grabbed her hand painfully, the knife fell out her grip. She beat hopelessly on his chest with her free hand. He hit her in the face, she mewled, and he felt a twist in his gut. This was wrong. It felt wrong, he hit her again. He pushed her down to the ground, and hit his fist down next to her head, his other hand held her by the neck. "You've Jose to thank for this." He stated.

Defiantly, she croaked out, "Jose isn't the one hitting me, this is on you."

"I can live with that." He said, not believing it.

Next, he kicked her in her side, each time she jumped and gulped for air. Slowly she crawled into the other room where he got on top of her and delivered most of his hits. His thighs held her hands to her sides, so she had nothing to shield her neck and upper body. When he stood to check he hadn't gone too far, she came alive as if she'd been playing dead, and tried to jump over the couch and towards the open front door. If his reflexes were slower she'd have gotten outside, but he grabbed her around her thin waist and he hefted her across the room. Now she flailed her limbs and shouted "No!" over and over. He just needed it to stop.

Then he saw the kitchen door frame skirting, full of notches engraved by repeated hits of a nail sticking out the door. He positioned her pale arm around those high notches and forced her head to look down. She was looking at the pencil markings lower down that marked some kids' heights: words proudly proclaimed 'Juvia age 7, Levy age 8, Wendy age 7, Wendy age 5' next to the lines at irregular intervals. He liked to think she was thinking back to when those lines were drawn rather than what was happening to her right then, but as he closed the door on her arm full force and felt it give way and heard it snap, the scream she screamed told him otherwise. It was the kind of guttural scream you hear from a mother as she watches her child pass through a meat grinder. He'd hear that scream a long time after that night, whenever he ran an errand for Jose again.

" _This is on you_." She'd said. Only afterwards did he believe her.

He was interrupted from his thoughts of the past by Romeo, who asked in a quiet voice, "Did you know her from the Phantom gang?" He didn't answer. "What did you do to her?" Romeo questioned, having heard what Levy had claimed: that he'd 'beaten her to an inch of her life'. He knew it was true.

"You remember what I taught you about treating women?" Kurogane asked the boy.

"You never hit a woman, if you're angry hit a wall." Romeo said back to him.

"That's right." He said with clenched teeth. "Men don't always give advice because they've stuck to it their whole lives, sometimes they give warnings because they haven't heeded that advice and, it worked out poorly for them." Romeo seemed to take some time to consider this. "Go to bed." The man commanded.

"But Gajeel!" Romeo objected, calling the man by his name for the first time that night.

"Go to bed!" Gajeel shouted, in a tone that made it clear he wouldn't ask a third time. Romeo retreated up the stairs and Gajeel collapsed onto his sofa. What he feared the most might have started to happen. His old life was starting to catch up with him.


	8. Chapter 8

Levy grappled the front door open with much less caution, regarding volume, than when she'd left. Her heart beat with eager palpitations as thoughts flooded her head which she tried to organise. Getting her breath in the door way, she irrationally looked down making sure her arms were nowhere near the sides of the door frame, she held Happy close. Thankfully, someone heard her entrance, and attempts to calm herself, and came to greet her at the door.

"Levy, Juvia was so worried. You say there's an emergency and when Juvia arrives you aren't here." The elder sister said coming up to her distressed looking sister concerned.

"Is Wendy up?" Levy managed to ask between gulps of air, Juvia shook her head in the negative. That at least Levy had to be thankful for. She made a move to pass Happy to Juvia, who briefly stepped back before taking him. "Put him down to bed, won't you? Make sure there's no lose blankets in his crib, for when we go out to work and can't watch over him." Juvia dutifully nodded like she'd forgotten this, and it had been a good thing Levy had reminded her.

"What will Levy do?" Juvia asked, always seemingly looking to others for instruction.

"I'm going to get changed into my work clothes, go to the Fairy Tail bar, get a much-needed stiff drink, and then meet you at work." Levy rattled off her plan, which if it didn't come to fruition might drive her insane.

Juvia looked unsettled by Levy's plan however, "But Levy and Juvia always walk to the club together for protection." She made a good point, it was dangerous to walk the streets in their particular 'uniform' this time of night. Though Levy had a solution to this too.

"Why don't you come along to the bar then, Juvia? Everyone there has really missed you." It was true, patrons asked after Levy's elder sister all the time and Levy was running out of excuses for why Juvia never came to see them anymore. Juvia however looked terrified at the new prospect, she shook her head like it was full of bees.

"No, Juvia will put Happy to bed and then walk to the club before the end of the hour." Levy sighed, though she wasn't surprised by the rejection.

Both the girls started to climb up the stairs, the chores required of them both needing to take place up there. As they parted ways when Levy came to her door, she said, "Juvia when I ask you to come home during an emergency, can you please come home as soon as possible? By which I mean sooner than tonight." Levy was frustrated that she'd had no choice but to bring Happy with her to the Conbalts, something could have gone wrong with Kurogane there.

"Levy hasn't even told Juvia what the emergency was." Juvia pointed out, not unfairly.

"Wendy got hurt." Levy answered and Juvia's eyes widened, eyelids shuddered shocked. Levy continued, "And I went somewhere dangerous tonight to make sure it wouldn't happen again, I'd have preferred if Happy hadn't have been with me, but I couldn't risk him waking Wendy."

"The place was dangerous? Dangerous how?" Juvia asked, holding a sleeping Happy closer.

"The old kind of danger." Levy offered, and the meaning was not lost on a now terrified looking Juvia, who entered Happy and Wendy's shared room to lay him down. Levy retreated into her own room where she took off the leather pencil skirt that had caused such a fuss today and her blouse, she put a hair band in her now relaxed hair and she put on some hoop earrings. She put on what was a shimmery Bikini with a sort of mermaid scale print and then over the top of it a low cut, short dress of the same pattern that hugged her every feminine curve. For decency she threw an oversized trench coat over the skimpy outfit. Out of all her jobs this was her least favourite. At least she'd be able to get a drink first.

Walking down the street on her way to the bar, Levy was very much absorbed with trying to introspectively manage her thoughts from what had happened during the day. She could now. Now that no-one else was around, she could make sense of it all, or try to. She'd seen a face from her past, and not only that but the headline she'd been shown by Romeo was indicative that this might become all the more common. Gang members in her backyard, where would that lead? She'd seen Wendy hurt today by a misguided young man. If a boy that age could do that to her, what could gang groupies do? Levy knew all too well. She'd looked into one of their eyes today knowing what he was capable of, it couldn't be allowed to affect Wendy too. She had to cut ties to that boy Romeo, then that would be the end of it. Levy wished she would find herself more convincing.

Trying to refocus away, from that spiralling train of thought, she instead took in her surroundings. The pavement was cracked and well-worn, the curb bashed in. The overhead sulphurous street lights flickered like bug zappers. In the distance she heard sirens, more than usual, and they appeared to be getting closer. So focused on this wailing chorus, Levy didn't hear the rapid footfalls and panting coming up from behind her. "Gangway!" Someone called from her stern. Levy managed to turn and get off the path out of his way before he rammed into her. Only, he then seemed to trip on air and smack down onto the pavement, where she'd just been standing. "Oof!" he said as the air left his lungs upon his concrete collision. He looked up at a startled Levy with a goofy, albeit embarrassed, grin. "Hi Levy!"

"Natsu!" Levy scolded, recognising the man hugging the floor, as her longstanding friend from way back in high school up to the present. He was now shakily standing on his feet patting down his dust covered pants, his pink coloured hair was tussling in the wind.

There was a rumour at the guild that Natsu loved his unusual natural hair colour because it garnered him so much attention, mainly in the negative from macho men- who associated the colour as feminine. When these, usually burly, men made comments about his hair it gave Natsu an excuse to brawl with them. And the juvenile Natsu was always looking for an excuse to fight, because despite his appearance he was deceptively strong. Levy knew how characteristic it was of Natsu to seek out confrontation, so it surprised her to have seen him running like a bat out of hell, from what she could only assume had been a fight. To quell her suspicions she asked, "Who are you running from?"

"Gray." Natsu answered, confusing Levy even further, as Natsu loved to rile up their other shared friend, (and Natsu's best friend) Gray more than anyone. It didn't make sense that Natsu would run from a fight with Gray. Only then, as a tag on, Natsu added "And the police." Which made more sense.

Levy gave the sigh of a defeatist, and pinched the bridge of her nose and scrunched her eyes closed, so she didn't see another man turn the corner, as she asked Natsu: "What did you do?"

"He set _another_ car on fire." The man who'd newly spoken in a bored tone, turning the corner, was instantly recognised by Levy as Gray.

Although Gray's breathing was laboured from what Levy assumed was him giving chase to Natsu, Gray still had his usual dry and stoic manner (only broken into anger, it seemed, by Natsu's annoyances). Gray naturally said very little, to try to converse with him amiably, was often draining. His facial features furrowed in a scowl of permanence. He had a scar above his right eye he didn't talk about. On the rare occasions he smiled he was kind of classically handsome, though he looked older than Levy and Natsu. His life's hardships had aged him, people whispered.

Levy considered it was kind of remarkable how Natsu and Gray even were friends, what with how dissimilar they were. To Gray's reserved and pessimistic outlook was Natsu's spontaneity and larger-than-life disposition. This, if evident nowhere else, was epitomised in the pair's contrasting views regarding Natsu's affinity to arson and pyrotechnics. "It's the quickest way I know of to get rid of an incriminating car," Natsu defended. "And it's not like it was near anybody's house."

"No, instead you put it in the middle of the fucking park where kids are going to be playing tomorrow, idiot. Not exactly subtle." Gray said sensibly. "Oh plus, two fire trucks came to put out the fire, and you managed to get half the Police department out looking for you." He added. Levy guessed that explained all the sirens. Natsu's expression looked boyishly smug. 'Yeah I did!' Levy could almost hear him boast internally.

Levy wouldn't want to get too deep into Natsu's psyche (mostly for fear of never being able to get out again) but if she did delve into his mind, Levy thought she might find that he was so drawn to setting things alight because, like this instance, it provoked outrage and attention. These were two things Natsu had never shied away from. Plus, fire was simple, elemental- it was easy to understand. It was hot, it burnt things. You light a fire you get ash- natural progression. Natsu had taken this with a misconception, that perhaps, this also meant it was easy to control (as so few things in his life had been). Destroying something, and having everyone know what had happened, and the feeling of control Natsu got from it, must all be irresistible to him, Levy deduced. A natural high that Gray was quick to put a dampener on with his unapologetic icy realism.

"I swear," Gray said. "one of these days you'll start a fire and the air will be hot enough and dry enough that it carries on the wind, and you'll set a whole block of the Southside on fire and smoke to death people sleeping, none-the-wiser, in their beds. Is that what you want?" This sounded like a fearful possibility to Levy, but Natsu brushed off the threat of his arsonist ways yet again.

"You hear this guy? Air too hot, air too dry? It's November for crying out loud, relaaaaax."

Levy felt she had to interject or else the two of them would bicker all night. "Speaking of the freezing cold month, can we perhaps go someplace warmer than the sidewalk?" She held her coat to her tighter.

"Sure," Natsu agreed. "I know where there's a bonfire, we could visit to warm up." He said grinning.

"Not funny." Gray rejected. "Let's walk to Fairy Tail before a Police car comes around and spots this guy." He pointed at Natsu who looked as pleased as punch.

In truth, Levy had already walked most of the way to the bar when Natsu and Gray ran into her, and the three continued at a leisurely pace that didn't quite correlate with Natsu's current status as the neighbourhood's most-wanted, if they did in fact know it was him they were looking for. But he didn't seem worried, so the others couldn't really be either.

As they walked, Levy talked nostalgically about Natsu lighting fires in the bins back in high school, and the one time he'd set off a road flare right outside the school library. It was a miracle the books hadn't caught alight. Levy still remembered the screamed-lecture she'd given Natsu for coming so close to destroying so much literature. Gray smirked at that, remembering too it seemed. Seeing Gray enjoying himself at his expense, Natsu commented on Gray's light attire despite how cold it was. He coughed out without any discretion that the other man was a (Cough) "Stripper" (Cough, cough). This peeved Levy, who said he should know his audience, given she was in her stripping clothes under her trench coat. This perked Natsu right up, who cheekily asked, none so subtly, for a peak. Just as Levy had ever so eloquently told him to shove it, the three walked up to the bar's entrance. They all couldn't help but smile fondly up at the bar name and logo, and they eagerly walked inside.

As they entered heads turned, and when the regular patrons saw Natsu a hearty cheer arose. The man was confused until he saw on the box TV, suspended above the bar, was a helicopter shot of the car fire he'd started on the local news. He got pats on the back as he did a victory lap around the floor.

"Old habits die hard, 'ey Natsu?" One person called.

"They'll getcha this time, just you watch." One warned, laughing.

"Nuh-uh!" Natsu denied. "They can try, I'll just blame it on Gray."

"What the hell, man?" Gray called out to Natsu, as he sat down at the table they'd shared.

"Alright, that's enough." The bar-keep announced authoritatively. "Don't encourage him." The congratulations for Natsu died down to happy murmurs at the instruction, mainly because it had come from Laxus Dreyar, the head bar tender. He was about seven feet tall and rippling with muscle so when he told you to do something, you obeyed.

There was much deliberation around the bar as to how Laxus managed to stay in such good shape. Although the bar was technically owned by Laxus' lovable grandfather Makarov, the management of it fell to him which meant most of his hours were spent keeping it running. Laxus sometimes got commissioned to work as an electrician (the field he'd trained in before inheriting the bar) but that work wasn't too physically demanding. He had many scars, including one over his eye so some theorised he just got into fights all the time. Others decided he must just attend the gym when other humans would sleep. But by far, the most popular theory was he just had very frequent and very exertive sex with his smoking hot wife, Mirajane.

Mirajane now walked up to Natsu, Gray and Levy's table as she asked: "What can I get you, guys?" No-one could deny how gorgeous Mirajane was, and even though they'd seen her a thousand times before, even Gray and Natsu seemed to take pause over her almost silver, platinum blonde sleek hair, and well-endowed breasts as she waited on their response. Levy rolled her eyes and answered for the preoccupied men. "We'll have three Pints of Corona, please Mira." Levy asked politely.

"Straight onto beers, Levy?" Gray asked, surprised by the petite woman. Levy just sighed heavily before admitting, "It's been a long day."

"We heard something of your troubles from Lisanna when she came by earlier," Mirajane admitted. Levy couldn't even fault Lisanna for spilling to her sister about her problems, that's just who Mirajane was, she had a kind heart and soft expression that you couldn't help but open up to. "Is there anything we can do to help?" Mira asked.

"If you let me stick my mouth under the beer tap, I'm sure I'd feel much better." Levy joked. Gray smiled but looked a little concerned by Mirajane's talk of troubles, so Levy calmed him by saying. "I'm alright, I'm just busy- it's nothing I can't handle. Just a lot of silly little things stacked up that feel like a bigger problem. It'll get better." Levy failed to mention the gang hitman she'd run into that evening.

"Well, according to Lisanna, one of those things is a broken alarm clock. I can take a look at it for you." Laxus, the qualified electrician, offered while filling their pint glasses. Levy realised as soon as he'd offered it would have been the opportune moment to get it fixed, but like a fool, in her hurry, she'd left it at home. She was just about to say so when she was interrupted by Mirajane, who now wore a devilish expression, saying: "Laxus, that was going to be Gajeel's job, don't you remember?" There was a tone of warning in her voice.

"But Gajeel isn't here." Laxus remarked reasonably, before his wife stalked over and smacked him on the arm, before whispering in his ear. Laxus just looked exasperated.

Levy deduced from the exchange that Lisanna had also mentioned to her sister, her and Kinana's ideas about this illusive 'Gajeel' character making Levy a good boyfriend. Mirajane being the matchmaker that she was must have come to a similar conclusion. Levy couldn't understand it, all this fuss and fancy and she hadn't even met the guy yet. To her, from Lisanna's description, the two of them didn't even sound that compatible.

Levy chose to ignore the silliness of Mira's behaviour and instead answered Laxus honestly and directly, "Thanks Laxus, but I've left it at home. Some other time perhaps."

"Smart that you'd let Laxus do it rather than Gajeel," Gray commended, pausing from watching the news coverage of Natsu's escapade. "That guy is real unreliable, you should see him at work."

"Oh yeah," Mira remembered, as she brought over and set down the three glasses. "You guys work together now, don't you?"

Levy seemed to tense mid-drink and awaited Gray's response. "Yeah," He said casually, "at the car shop on 5th, it's plenty easy to work there. All you've got to be able to do is hotwire an expensive ride here and there, then a mechanic does it up, rotates the miles back, gives it a paint job, switches the plates and you use your sales pitch to sell it off as new to some rich North side sucker."

Gray paused and took a gulp of his beer. "But somehow Gajeel still manages to screw up his side of the arrangement when he does up a BMW we've delivered to him but misses a damn tracker under the hood. He gives it back to us like its fine and Natsu's driving it tonight to the potential buyer, who I'm with, when he starts getting tailed by the fucking cops."

"I've never driven so fast," Natsu said smiling from ear to ear, "It was fucking awesome!"

Gray looked annoyed at the interruption and carried on, "Thankfully this dimwit drives fast and knows well enough to dispose of the car. I arrive in the neighbourhood a few minutes later by taxi and it's my job to find him."

"Wait, so there was actually a reason you set this newest car on fire for a change?" Laxus asked surprised.

"Yeah," Natsu agreed heartily, "Even you see that I had a good reason for it and still Jellal was pissed when I called him."

"Yeah no shit he was pissed, you destroyed a $50,000 car." Gray said exasperated, even though he knew Natsu had no other options. Having heard the full story, satisfied, Laxus went into the backroom. Like him, many others seemed content with the story, but not Levy.

"I'm still confused about one thing," She announced confusing everyone. She paused, before- "Just what the hell are you two thinking getting caught up working with my brother?" She slammed her open palms down on the table which shook dangerously as she glared challengingly at the pair. Gray knew better than to say anything, Natsu, on the other hand, was stupid.

"Who's your brother?" He asked, genuinely unknowing, having not put two and two together.

"Jellal!" Levy said hopelessly. "My brother is Jellal!"

"Oooooh, I see it now. There's a resemblance too. Yeah, similar face shape." Natsu concluded confidently, seemingly having missed the most obvious likeness of their shared blue hair.

Levy decided it easier to just breeze past this inaccuracy, to get to her core message. "You two cannot work for Jellal, he's bad news!" Levy warned "And right now he's worse than ever, danger will be gravitating towards him what with all the money he owes people. Serious people, and serious money too!"

"-And we just lost him fifty grand." Gray concluded realisation striking him, he dragged his palms down his face. Gray collapsed his head into his arms on the table like a human deck chair. Mirajane watched the display and announced, "I'll take that to mean three more coronas." Before retreating to get them.

"Not for me," Gray said. "I've got to make sure my kidneys are in good condition for when I have to sell one of them."

"Relaaaax," Natsu assured wrapping his arm around the melted ball of Gray on the table. "Jellal's gotta see that the fault is on Gajeel instead of us, I know we haven't been working for him long but I'm sure he's a good guy- he's gotta be if he's Levy's brother."

Natsu was followed by a brief silence, before Levy quietly said. "Trust me, he's not a good guy." And then came a tension in the air, that felt immovable. No-one wanting to ask Levy why and everyone wanting to know. In all the time they'd known her, Levy had rarely ever mentioned another brother before.

Just as Levy was about to pay her tab and announce her leave, a heavy distracting thudding was heard at the door like a moose trying to break in. The moose turned the handle and revealed itself to be a stumbling drunken Cana. She giggled to herself as she grappled her other arm through the door which was holding onto a six pack that had already been half decimated, only three remaining. She announced her entrance slurred saying, "I'm back, bitches!" A cheer went up around the bar as she walked gracelessly to her pride of place, her unofficially assigned bar stool, and plonked her cans on the beer top. Cheerfully, Mirajane, who was prepping the new round of Coronas, asked her, "How did the AA meeting go, Cana?"

Cana was the bar's permanent, less than saintly patron and, if there was one, she'd probably hold the title of the patron saint of drinking. Many people had known Cana all through high school and had never known her sober. She was pretty and showed it in scantily clad outfits, she was unashamedly lecherous, but likable despite her flaws. she carried a drink wherever she went along with a pack of tarot cards. And if you got her drunk enough she'd give you an eerily accurate fortune.

Gray seemed to ask Cana the more apt question than Mirajane when he said, "Better yet, did you go?"

Cana seemed unabashed saying "Two words, Gray: Court. Ordered." He took this to mean she had gone begrudgingly.

"So how did the meeting go?" Mira asked again, this time eliciting a reaction.

"It went swell, Mira, thanks for asking," She reached for one of the Coronas Mira had finished pouring and hoisted it into the air. "In fact, it went so well, I think I'll drink to its success." Another cheer arose from around the bar infused with contained chuckles.

It was the repeated cheering that caused Laxus to emerge from the back, having lost interest in washing glasses. He reassessed the state of the bar and instantly his trained eye fell on Cana. "Why the hell are you bringing that convenience-store canned shit into my bar?" He questioned, referring to the cans on his bar top.

Cana hugged the six pack close to her cleavage, explaining "I got lonely on the ride home, so I bought them. Guildarts isn't exactly the best company." Cana delivered a menacing look to the door where the aforementioned Guildarts was now entering, having been parking up the car after giving Cana a ride back from Alcoholics anonymous.

"Cana, don't say things like that- you'll break your old man's heart." Guildarts scolded coming up to the bar to sit next to his drunken daughter. He was the kind of father who wanted too hard to be cool, so therefore let their kid get away with anything. This would be fine, only now Cana was a grown woman with a taste for booze, but Guildarts hadn't been there when she was younger and felt the guilt of that. So, he was always standing by if she needed a ride or a favour- he even got her a job. He ran a phone line company where people paid by the minute to listen to women talk dirty to them, but he branched out a little and managed to set up Cana an over-the-phone fortune teller service. Even Cana admitted that she could get no reading on people over the phone, but hey, if they were going to pay her who was she to ruin the illusion.

Levy was one of Guildarts' call girls and seeing him had reminded her she was due payment for the call she'd received today during her first job. As Mirajane brought over to Levy, Natsu and Grays table the two remaining coronas that had avoided Cana's clutches, Levy asked Guildarts, "Can I get paid for my call today Guildarts? I had him on the phone for four minutes, so you owe me $20." At a rate of $10 per minute, Levy took half the cut- Guildarts passed over the money readily saying, "Couldn't you have kept him on the phone longer Levy? Most of my other girls can drag it out- it means more money for you if you do."

"No thanks, I wasn't going to talk to that guy any longer than necessary." Levy said.

"If you don't like the calls anymore, I've got cam positions available." Guildarts offered. Levy cringed at this because she hated the idea of doing porn. Given how poor she was she couldn't really afford many sensibilities and over the years they'd been getting away from her, degrading with her desperation. At first the rule was- nothing sexual, but then the bills started backing up, so the new rule became -nothing where she showed her face (hence the call job) and then there was a relapse and she'd had to start the stripping. The immovable rule remained though, that she'd never take up hooking, she'd never give herself to someone she didn't want. In some ways Levy thought this separated her from many other desperate girls of that _industry_ , but that line was steadily blurring. Sufficiently depressed by her train of thought, Levy was about to tell Guildarts she wasn't interested when Cana beat her to it.

"Buzz off pervert, Blue is a God loving girl and she's better than your cams. Shit, with her brain she should be running Chicago Uni, not be stuck in this place."

"Thanks Cana, but somehow that makes me feel less than consoled." Levy said smiling. Cana looked just about ready to speak again when someone else entered, someone who commanded the whole room's attention. As she entered the conversation dried up, only rushed whispers remaining like someone trying to speak through the desert wind. She nodded her head in acknowledgement to Laxus, knowing him to be the main proprietor of the bar. And a sea of crowded bodies hastily moved out of her way as she walked from the door to the counter.

"Laxus." She began, pausing while seemingly pervading each of the customers with her gaze, her eyes fixated a long while on Levy, Gray and Natsu's Table. Her attention was only commanded when Laxus also acknowledged her by name, "Erza."

"There's a car fire in the Park on West Avenue," Erza said like a cold de-brief "we think its connected to some smuggling that's based in the Southside. We're trying to apprehend the culprit."

"Yeah, I saw that on the news." Laxus offered defensively.

To explain why Erza spoke in the collective 'we' and why everyone in the bar got defensive around her, one had to look no further than what she was wearing. She was dressed in a navy collared shirt and flexible pants and smart but durable boots. She wore a heavy navy jacket which on the lapel held a sliver polished badge, and she had on a heavy belt which, on the side, carried her standard issue firearm. All the blue of her police uniform came as a stark contrast to her deep red hair, but she wore both unapologetically and with pride despite all the attention it got her.

No one had ever seen Erza do anything that let on what she was thinking. She often spoke in relation to the wider police force which she was a part of. No-one had ever seen her slouch and she wasn't perturbed from coming into a bar that was filled with a lot of petty criminals that felt a whole lot of justification in hating cops. But no-one hated Erza, no, she was a police officer who uniquely understood context. She knew the difference between a petty crime and a violent crime. She knew the difference between a bad hood influencing a kid and a bad kid. She knew when someone was just committing a minor crime as a form of coping, and she offered the benefit of the doubt often. She herself had come up from nothing so she accorded all due respect and acted admirably.

In the bar, alone, Erza knew the names of patron's wives, their kid's birthdays, their jobs or lack thereof, their past offences. She checked in on people who were down on their luck and kept in contact with all her old school friends. But if you'd done something bad enough that it made Erza feel like you'd let her down, she'd let you know about it. In the bar one day, someone had got into a drunken fight and one guy had pulled a knife. Erza had moved quickly tackling the man to the floor, getting him in a headlock, stamping down on his closed hand holding the knife with her boot. She'd cuffed him and taken him down to the station. When he got taken to the walk-in clinic to check the damage to his hand, the X-ray showed five bones were broken. So, while everyone liked Erza and thought she was fair, they still found themselves get defensive around her. No-one in that bar wanted to let Erza down or get on her bad side. So currently, Natsu was sweating buckets.

"We're patrolling the streets looking for our suspect, but you've someone in here I'd like to question." Erza stated.

"It's a free country." Laxus offered not wanting to talk to the dangerous woman in front of him longer than he had to.

"Natsu," Erza started, making Natsu nervously jolt in his seat. Erza knew of Natsu's school antics regarding fire, having been in school four years above Levy, Gray and Natsu. Being a senior while they were practically freshmen, she heard in the pipeline of Natsu's talents for arson. And post police academy, she'd picked Natsu up once as he was lighting a fire in a bin in the street. She'd let him off with a warning not wanting a kid fresh out of high school to get a criminal record. But the fact remained she knew what Natsu was capable of and now she was questioning him on a pretty serious fire. She continued, "Do you know anything about that car fire?"

Natsu spluttered for a moment before saying "Well um, I mean yes-"

Thankfully, Levy came to his rescue. "Just what he's seen on the TV, Natsu's been here for two hours."

"Right!" Natsu agreed, too bombastically to not arose suspicion.

Erza asked, directing her question at Laxus. "Those cameras suspended above the bar entrance, do they work? If so, I'd like to verify that with the footage."

"Nah, those old things are a bust, they're just there to stop people trying to break in. They don't actually work, but we've got about thirty witnesses in here that can verify that Natsu's been here for a while." Laxus lied gesturing into the crowd of people, who'd willingly lie to save Natsu's ass.

"No, that will be alright, If Natsu knows nothing I'll be on my way." Erza conceded but she had an amused look in her eye like she knew how blatantly she'd been lied to and that Natsu really was at fault, and she was just filling a requirement by coming to ask, instead of trying to incriminate Natsu.

As Erza turned to leave she paused, turned to Levy and asked, "You're coming to defence training on Saturday?"

"Wouldn't miss it." Levy said smiling which seemingly satisfied the fiery woman who paused only to fire back at Natsu "Stay out of trouble." Before leaving.

As the door closed behind Erza, both Gray and Natsu melted onto the table in relief, much like Gray had done previously in despair. Still, Natsu hadn't been caught out, they'd dodged a bullet.

Out of the blue, Laxus then announced, "Just so you know, those cameras work just fine, so no-one get any ideas about breaking into the bar late at night." He gave Cana a measured look.

Quite promptly, Levy arose and paid for her tab, she briefly comforted Natsu and Gray urging them to drink the two remaining Coronas, because the booze would jack up Gray's liver long before it would get to his profitable kidneys, so what did it matter anyway? When Levy left for her next job Natsu and Gray were drinking away their sorrows figuring out just what the hell they were going to do to work their way out of this problem. Levy on the other hand, left the bar feeling much more at ease than when she'd went in, good company will do that for you. And booze. The booze definitely helped.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: SO SORRY I haven't been updating, I've actually been sitting on some chapters but forgot to post them, life got super busy I'm afraid. As an apology here's a double upload Spurred on by the reviewer Dragonfly (Thank you for making me realise I'd been sleeping on this fic). And warning for this particular chapter, as there's sexual imagery. Please enjoy.**

Levy approached and entered the club, with the toxic neon lights overhead reading 'Girls, Girls, Girls'. She took off her trench coat allowing her arms to breathe, though they almost seared under the red lights built into the velvet coated walls of the entrance. She hastily made her way through the club with its constricted walking space- designed to allow for as many tables as the place could occupy. She got a few stares as she shimmied past. She steadily made her way to the back room to deposit her coat and ask after Juvia and check if she'd arrived alright on her own. Levy was distracted when she saw that she had, as Juvia was a few feet away up on stage.

Before she could avert her attention and get to the back room however, a stout red-faced man with a moustache that could rival Salvador Dali stepped in her way. Her boss, named Everlue, had unconventional taste, in that he best preferred young women despite his own age, which of itself already had him heavily labelled as a pervert. If he had it his way though, all the strippers in his establishment would have disproportionate bodies, their faces puckered with blemishes and they'd wear maid's outfits. He was a man of many fetishes and liked ugly girls. Only, Everlue had realised his own preferences did not translate to any of his clientele: men who wanted gorgeous, buxom, good-looking women in sheer swimsuit fabrics. So, it was instead women like these he hired. All of the girls in the club he hated, and he hated Levy the most. Both, because she wasn't ugly like the girls he liked (and therefore he couldn't understand how a man could love her) and, because she was often, by the clientele, deemed plainer and less exciting than the other girls who were taller and had better endowed chests. Because of all this, Everlue often gave Levy an unwarranted hard time, as he was about to.

"And where are you going?" he asked, his tone nasal.

"Just to the backroom to put down my coat." She didn't put a 'sir' on the end, believing the man highly undeserving of any courtesy.

The man sneered before saying "I was expecting you to arrive earlier with Juvia, we usually announce the two of you together."

On the nights Levy and Juvia were booked to work the stage on the poles, their entrance was announced, calling out their names respectively as 'Turquoise' and 'Lapis', known collectively as 'The Sapphire Sisters'. Levy detested the show pony nature of it all, and she much preferred (though still hated) giving lap dances on the floor than being on the stage. That way, only one man was looking at her with hungry eyes, even if it was much more closely. This led Levy to protest, "I'm still on time, Juvia just arrived early. And I'm booked to be off stage- my shift on Wednesdays is for waitressing the first hour and a half and I'm on the ground the second."

"Change of plans," Everlue said unapologetically, not referring to his notes to either confirm nor deny her schedule. "Jenny's not coming in, so you have her shift, there's a pole free and you've three hours on it." He said, voice dripping satisfaction. "Best get changed in the back room." Oh right, working the pole would also mean getting _more_ undressed.

Frustrated, Levy barged into the crevice of a table and still didn't slow her momentum in getting around Everlue. She walked until she was in the cooler, better lit backroom equipped with lockers. It was set up a bit like a high school gym changing room, except with an unpartitioned toilet and a vent which lead to the outside that the girls would smoke under. They'd exhale like dragons trying to ward away males, who attempted to jeopardise the solace of their nest. Levy sat on the central bench of the room and looked angrily at the side door she was to go through to get to the stage when they called her name. She'd have to be ready to go on when that happened or there'd be hell to pay. Levy plonked down her trench coat, getting started.

She undid the tie of her shimmery mermaid scale dress and let it fall about her feet. She had to assist gravity though as the fabric got stuck around her generous hips and backside, but with some cajoling it fell, and she was left bare. Well, almost bare apart from her swimsuit, which she knew the top half of had to be removed also. The rule was any woman on the stage went shirtless, breasts out, as she was too far away from any man spectating to be groped, in theory. Any dollars in tips that woman collected could be kept in the string of her panties near her hip bones, careful not to obstruct _the view_. Those rules, above all else, made Levy hate the stage. She undid the cord of her bikini top and looked down at herself. While she had a definite swell and shape to her breasts, they were comparatively smaller than the other women Levy would see. And Levy would see those feral instinctual men look at her move up there, and they'd see it too.

"And now coming on stage the second of The Sapphire Sisters, it's- Turquoise." Levy heard her muffled announcement and made her way through the side door to the stage.

About two and a half out of three of her hours having transpired monotonously thus far, Levy was in a desensitised rhythm of grinding, climbing and ghosting her own hands up and down her figure. She moved without premeditation, caught seemingly in the motions. Her mind far away during this time, she didn't see when Juvia left the stage top but, when she noticed it, it made her green with envy.

Crowds of men came and went viewing her move like a zoo exhibit. Levy had started out strong, but due to the weight of their stares baring down on her and her exhaustion from the day, it became harder and harder to hoist herself up the pole. One man had featured prominently during Levy's display though, watching from a way off. Coming out of her head again though, Levy noticed he was gone. That came as a relief.

Surprising her, Levy then heard the stage manager announce her departure from the stage- her que to leave being "Give it up for Turquoise, Gentlemen." A brief applause went across as Levy professionally picked herself up and swaggered off the stage, as if she'd known this to be the plan all along. Why she was getting called off early she didn't know, but she was too relieved to care about the minutia.

In the backroom, she roughly threw on her dress, too frustrated to battle with the bikini straps of her bra-top any longer. Some girls taking their smoke break under the vent saw her struggling with the stringy fabric and laughed amongst themselves, depressing Levy further. She would have undoubtedly stayed like that in a cloud of angst, if it wasn't interrupted by a polite knock at the door and an instantly recognisable, impossibly deep baritone voice, like a yawning lion, asking after her, "Levy?"

Sufficiently summoned, Levy walked over to the door and went outside, closing it behind her. She came face to face with the owner of the voice, a bouncer and security buff at the club nicknamed 'Lily'. It was comical really: a seven ft tall, muscular, black man with a shaven head and huge crescent moon shaped scar over his eye, who's literal vocation was to intimidate men, would have such a sensitive name. Though he only allowed people he knew and liked to call him Lily, to everyone else he was Pantherlily, which Levy guessed held a little more street cred, _marginally_.

Despite his tough external appearances, he was immeasurably sweet hearted. He always knocked on the door to the backroom, not wanting to invade the girls' space, proving chivalry to not be dead. He called out every single instance of misconduct by a client and always intervened, throwing them out, despite Everlue telling him to let some things slide. He wouldn't have it, he wouldn't let it go unchecked. He made all the girls feel safer, and not only that, he struck up conversation with them about their lives and interests where possible, which made them all feel more human, as he did with Levy now.

"Hiya Lily." Levy greeted. Lily was always 'Lily' to Levy.

"Hello Levy, Juvia wanted you to have your house key. She told me she triple checked it was locked when she left." He said, giving her the key, which she gladly took. It was Juvia's set of emergency keys, with the address and Levy's number on a piece of paper folded back on the key chain, so someone could contact her if Juvia was in distress. The address being on them though, Juvia was always hyperaware they were either in her or Levy's possession at any time. So, it said a lot about how trustworthy the two deemed Lily that he'd been entrusted with their safe return. Levy wondered over Juvia's anxious ticks flaring up, given she'd been so pedantic as to triple check when locking up the house. She figured it was her way of coping with having to walk to the club on her own. She decided she'd have to do something nice for her sister to celebrate her getting here independently. She explained this to Lily.

"I went to Fairy Tail for a few drinks, so Juvia decided she'd come here on her own- she did great. Has she been alright tonight? Not panicky?" Levy asked.

Lily smiled affectionately before saying, "When I spoke to her she was quite alright. She told me she felt much better after you'd arrived, and she'd seen you."

"She's doing much better than she was, I think." Levy said immensely hopeful. She instinctively went to pin the key to her bra strap before remembering she wasn't now wearing one under her dress. That was a battle she had lost in the changing room, so she just held it in her hand instead.

"She was talking about the house when she gave me the key. She had a funny story to tell, about her fixing an issue involving rats in your ceiling, by opening fire from the top floor." Lily relayed, smiling.

"Trust me, it's funnier now in hindsight than it was at the time." Levy added laughing.

"She says the rats are still up there." Lily claimed.

"No they aren't, I dealt with them! I told her about it too." Levy said, defensively.

"You did," Lily said, placatingly "But apparently she remains sceptical."

"Alright well, if I hear shots going off at night, I guess I know why." Levy joked.

"Well, _one_ of you has to deal with the rat infestation." Lily retorted, with a jokingly insinuating tone.

This made Levy squawk and splutter for her words. "There is no- I dealt with the-" Levy stopped when she saw Lily chuckling, his aim clearly having been to rile her up to remove her stress elsewhere. Levy let herself laugh at the absurdity of the conversation. It had reminded her just how great Lily was to talk to. She asked about him now.

"What about your place Lily? Any rats where you live?" Levy asked, mirthfully.

"No, no rats. It's nice, close to your neighbourhood I think. I'm staying with an old friend, though, we don't see that much of each other, we both do night shifts." Lily explained.

"If he lives nearby I might have seen him around." Levy offered.

"You might've. He's hard to miss." Lily said. "The two of us make quite the negative first impression."

"What do you mean?" Levy asked unknowingly.

"He's almost as tall as I am and unintentionally gives off a heavy gangster aura, which is less than fair as to what he's really like now. Though people do often make their assumptions." Lily explained.

"Well, it's a good thing a first impression can be wiped clean and forgotten, if deserved that is." Levy declared which seemed to please Lily, only his face soon went a little more serious.

"I hate to stop our talk Levy, but Everlue was asking after you earlier, to go to one of the private backrooms." Lily said gravely. The private backrooms were rooms closed off with beaded curtains and inside there were rounded red velvet booths to sit on. Their purpose was for paid premium lap dances. That explained why Levy was pulled from the stage, if someone had asked for her to give them a dance at premium rate, that would take priority. Levy bid Lily farewell, as he went to block the club's entrance from unfavourable drunks trying to get in and cause fuss. Levy made her way to where Everlue stood seemingly already looking out for her.

"You wanted to see me." She stated to Everlue. It wasn't a question, she knew. As even now, he went to reach for her and drag her to the opening of the room.

"You're to take your dress off." Everlue instructed, which made Levy hesitate.

"I've no top on underneath, I need a top on to give a dance personally." Levy objected.

"Look here," Everlue instructed "This man's bringing in more money than anyone else has the whole night, so you'll do your job and show some skin or else you'll be fired. Now get in there."

Begrudgingly Levy agreed, knowing her boss wouldn't threaten the ultimatum if he wouldn't go through with it.

As Levy entered the low-lit room she struggled to get her bearings, but she quickly gathered her place when she saw him, the man who'd been staring at her throughout her stage performance. He was a slight man wearing a leather jacket leaving only the skin on his hands and neck visible. But in these locations, he was heavily tattooed. On his neck notably, he had a tattooed cross bisected by font reading 'no surrender'. He had a young-looking face, but his eyes were almost sunken in. His five o'clock shadow made him look haggard, but he sat upright when Levy entered, leaving no doubt that he was who she was supposed to be entertaining.

She raised her hands, stood in front of him, no words having been shared between them, and moved the straps of her dress so it fell at her feet along with Juvia's key. His eyes darted around after the action trying to soak her in.

"You saw me on stage." Levy stated. "Did you like what you saw?" She walked closer to him.

"Wanted a better look." The man said, drinking her in.

Levy started to twist and roll her hips towards him. "Well, you can look. Just don't touch." The man gave a singular nod of understanding and Levy journeyed up close and personal to him, until the two shared the seat, and she moved on top of him.

After ten minutes of going to work, Levy had her face ghosting in the crook of the man's neck, her back to his front, and her ass on his lap. She gyrated in controlled circles on top of his hard-on, her hand reached up to grab the man's hair and make him look her in the face. The man clenched his palms down into the seat to resist grabbing her chest where he'd been previously looking. Instead now he looked past her face and at her hair.

"Turn around." He ordered out of nowhere. Levy obliged so her legs straddled his lap and she sat on his thighs. He looked at her chest and face again before reaching up his hand and feeling a ringlet of hair. Levy instinctively pulled away, saying "I told you not to touch, that's the rule."

" _You_ grabbed _my_ hair." He defended, before asking "Is your hair naturally blue, or do you dye it?"

"It's natural." Levy answered easily.

"That's rare." He praised. "Is Lapis your real sister then, or did they just band you together because of the similarity?"

"She's my real sister." Levy answered, truthfully. "You should come here on Tuesdays, the two of us share one pole." Levy hated advertising this, but it remained true, Tuesdays were her least favourite night.

"And your eyes? They aren't colour contacts?" He asked.

Levy stopped rolling her hips to consider the man, "Why would I wear colour contacts?" She asked suspiciously.

"So, your eyes _are_ amber then?" He asked.

"You _sure_ ask a lot of questions." Levy stated, perching herself up slightly away from the man.

"Then answer them." He demanded, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back into him.

"Okay, okay." She pulled back her wrist. "My eyes are amber."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-Two."

"How tall are you?"

"Five ft two." Levy answered embarrassedly.

"Cupsize?"

"A." Levy divulged, even more embarrassed.

The man chuckled to himself, looking at her chest greedily. "I'll bet." He said. Then he leaned forwards and clutched her right breast in his mouth, flicking his tongue over her nipple for just a moment before she pushed him away and slapped him.

She stood and covered her chest immediately, before saying, "What the hell was that?!" She had hell fire in her eyes as she stared him down.

He raised his hands nonchalantly in a gesture of surrender, "Sorry, sorry, I'd gotten exactly what I needed, so I just thought I'd test the waters a little. Don't worry, you were perfect, so I won't have anything bad to say to your boss." The man stood as if making to leave, but Levy wasn't done with him yet. What did he mean 'I got what I needed?'

"What the hell was with all those questions?" She interrogated.

The man shrugged bending down and picking up Levy's dress from where it was abandoned on the floor. "I wanted to know more about you, it gets me off." The guy explained.

Levy pulled her dress away from him, a look of disgust now cleanly expressed on her face. She pulled the dress on over her head and stalked out the private room, pushing the beaded curtain out of her way, like the individual beads were suspended dominos. Levy went off to the backroom to get her trench coat and find Juvia, technically she had five more minutes in her shift, but she would _not_ be made to stay. Her encounter with the tattooed man had unnerved her.

Lily at the door saw Levy and Juvia a few minutes later as they left, but Levy went past like a bat out of hell, not pausing to acknowledge him at all. The uncharacteristic action unsettled Lily who nervously returned Juvia's wave as the elder girl was pulled away by the cuff by her sister. Lily vowed to find out what had happened at a later date.

About five minutes later, still manning the door, Lily saw the man who'd rented out the private room, and asked for Levy, leave as well. The man didn't acknowledge the bouncer and instead stood by and lit himself a cigarette, then made a phone call. Lily was close enough that he could hear the atonal rings before someone picked up. Then Lily only heard the club-goer's side of the conversation, but it was enough to unsettle him.

"Hi Boss, I'm out and I've gotta tell you, you were right about her. She matches all the criteria you set out for me. She's definitely the girl, she's the one you're looking for. -What should I do now sir?"

A pause.

"Understood Sir, and also-" The man started to walk off the sidewalk, but not before Lily got a slight glance at what looked like a keychain in his hand.

"I got a location on the Canary's nest."


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: Trigger warning for blood and gore and violence this chapter**

He bit his fingernail again with a sickening crunch, his eyes darted left to right like he was watching a swinging pendulum, his forehead had broken out in cold sweat. This was like coming off a really bad trip, only worse because this was real. He bit his finger again pulling away flesh this time. It was like coming off a really bad trip, only eventually those get better. Instead, Jellal felt he was getting bogged down deeper and deeper in the shit. At least now, that he'd crawled out of his house, he could handle the problem, hands on, at the base- the car shop on 5th street where he now resided.

Walking around the base like a caged pacing animal, Jellal imagined he must look like an army general shouting out demands to the mechanics around him angrily. He knew they'd all done nothing wrong, well most of them. But, against his better judgement, his frustration at the deal tonight going up in literal flames was making him vent, by making sure everyone else worked harder than ever.

Jellal took a brief break in barking out unnecessary instruction and looked down at his phone again, it was dialling Natsu's untraceable that he'd gotten him. It rang and rang, until it didn't; Natsu wasn't picking up. Jellal resisted the urge to throw the phone into the goddamn wall. He just knew Natsu would be drinking somewhere right now, even though he'd specifically told him to shake off any police tailing him and come direct to the base. Natsu had burned the incriminating car before it could be traced back here. Despite all the money it lost him, Jellal knew it had been the right call, but it never should have happened in the first place. At least Natsu had called after the ordeal had taken place to try and explain himself, and he'd gotten Gray to elaborate on the situation further over text.

Someone guiltier however, had only dropped him one text saying he'd come in. No matter how much Jellal spammed him with messages, he was still a no show an hour later. Feeling powerless trying to navigate the situation electronically, he resorted to sending him another fruitless text. This one read: "Show up in the next five minutes Gajeel, or this partnership is break." It was severe. And just like the other texts it would probably go unread but Jellal would stick by the sentiment, this was getting ridiculous.

A jeep rolled up straight in off the street from the open hanger-style door and near to where Jellal was standing. It was a well kept and maintained car that contrasted the shop's rusted walls and dusty oil-spotted floors. It also contrasted the sports cars being done up in the work stations as a much more durable and common-sense vehicle. In these ways the car reflected the man who drove it, who was instantly recognisable to Jellal, who approached the driver's side door of the truck.

"Gajeel," Jellal addressed, said man dismounting from the car, slamming the door shut. "What in the hell took you so long?" Jellal raised his voice at the imposing tall, pierced man who looked unbothered, in fact he looked tired.

"You said get here as soon as possible," Was Gajeel's excuse. "I couldn't have gotten here any quicker."

"Then what kept you?" Jellal asked disbelievingly.

"You called, I was in the shower. Then something unexpected happened. I didn't see the messages. Then traffic." Gajeel explained seemingly trying to use as few syllables as possible. This didn't satiate Jellal.

"'Unexpected?'" Jellal questioned.

"That's my business." He dismissed, with a tone of finality.

"Natsu's saying the car got traced, he says it's the only explanation for how a whole C-PD squad was in waiting to tail him." Jellal explained, having already messaged Gajeel the details of the problem before his short reply. Darkly, he added "Which means he's implying you missed a tracker when you screened the car for resale. Which would leave you at fault for this whole mess."

"You sure that Jackass didn't just drag attention to himself, so he'd have an excuse to go for a joy ride and blow some shit up? You know how much of an adrenaline whore he is." Gajeel challenged vindictively.

Calmly, Jellal asked seriously, "Could you have missed a tracker?"

Gajeel seemed to hesitate, then he shuffled his feet and dragged a palm over his face, his fingers splayed as they journeyed over his piercings. Though his face remained stoic, his turmoil was obvious. His gravelly voice low, he admitted, "Yes."

"Why?" Jellal said, "It's not like you to slip up. You know an engine better than that, you're too meticulous for a mistake over something that routine." It was common for rich people to hide homing beacons on their cars for extra insurance, so it was pretty basic that it be checked for promptly. The remarks however seemed to make Gajeel coil up and up, until his frustration gave way.

"I don't know Jellal, _maybe_ I've had other shit on my mind recently- been a little bit distracted, you know?" Gajeel said with a violently insinuating tone.

"Well then you need to sort it out! Because that isn't good enough." Jellal scolded.

Gajeel laughed hollowly. "Sort it out? See, I _would_ Jellal, but _I_ can't transfer myself out of the city- that's on you."

"Are we seriously still talking about _this_?" Jellal said desperately, "I told you how grateful I was for you coming back into the city to oversee my operations."

"And I told you I couldn't do this Job if it was set up in Chicago. Plus, that whole exchange happened very differently. Way I remember it, you came begging me to come back into the city."

"And you said yes, so why are we even having this conversation?" Jellal implored.

At the end of his tether, Gajeel started to deconstruct his reasons in full. "A year ago, you come to me in rural Illinois, 'cause I've been out there making engine parts and mailing them into the city, and they're some of the best you've ever seen, so you want to hire me for your car ring. You tell me it's illegal, I say: Not a problem. You say I'd be working long hours, I say: Fine. You say It's set up in the Southside of _Chicago_ , I say: Go to hell. I made it clear from day, one I ain't going back to that city. But I know some guys who are down on their luck, out of work, so I lead you their way. But you're a persistent son of a bitch, and you keep coming back. I keep sending more mechanics I know your way, and your 'business' grows. It's only when you came to me two months ago I smelled a rat. You tell me you're in debt, amounts of debt that you don't get into with so much urgency, unless your dealing with a specific kind of people. And who needs hot cars more than anybody in the Southside? The gangs- I figure that you must owe the gangs." Jellal looked nervous at this claim never having heard that Gajeel had come to this assumption before.

Gajeel continued, "Now, some of the guys I sent your way, they've got wives and kids. And I realise I've dropped them into something way more dangerous than they can handle. Knowing that, how the fuck would I sleep at night if I heard one of them got shot on some shit that was gang related? It would be my fault. That, and only that, is the reason I came to 'oversee operations' in this shit hole. 'Cause at least then I can make sure, while you might sell the gangs a car every once in a while, you never run anything for them out the back end. And that's still the rule. You never run drugs or weapons in your cars for any gangs. You go against your word on that, I can still pull all your mechanics from under you. You agreed. But a year ago you also told me I'd never have to work in Shitcago, and here we are. So, if I can't focus while I'm at work, it's because I think every second that I'm going to be dropped back into this town's gang-cult Phantom. And I did not fight that hard to leave that just to fall back in. So, excuse me if my mind was elsewhere and I missed _one_ tracker."

Jellal, dumbfounded by the speech and claims by his head mechanic, could only defend himself, "I'm not running anything for any gangs, and you and your guys here will be safe. You just need to focus better, or else something like this will lead the police right to our doorstep. And I don't think your 'guys' would fair much better in prison, than in a gang fight. Plus, you shook my hand on coming to the Southside. I didn't drag you, not anywhere that you didn't willingly go yourself."

"But you dragged a _kid_ into it- the one I'm looking after. The two worst things in his life happened in this city. His Mom shot dead and his Dad in prison right here. I was never going to bring him back before all of this."

"But you did. You were the one to drag him back Gajeel, not me. It's on you. And now it's done." Jellal reminded, absolutely correct and harsh. Gajeel didn't let on in his expression how ashamed he felt.

"You need to focus on the here and now." Jellal threatened. "This operation needs to run like a well-oiled machine from now on. It needs to improve or my last text to you (which I know you haven't looked at yet by the way) goes into effect."

Gajeel took out his phone now looking at it for the first time, as he didn't turn it on while he was driving. He had six missed calls from Jellal, and about fifteen text messages with varying tones of desperation. In amongst the texts from Jellal was one from Gray, reading: "Heads up. The newest car you worked on is a bust, Jellal's pissed and looking for you." Gajeel couldn't help but think Gray's 'Head's up' a bit of an after-thought, as it came a little late in the day. But the most recent text from Jellal threatened Gajeel comply to what he said "Or this partnership is break" So, essentially Jellal was saying, step up your game or we're no longer partners.

Gajeel almost laughed at the wording. 'Partnership?' Nah, that would mean respect between the two of them in one form or another and Gajeel had lost all that for him. Because no matter what Jellal said, he had the immovable feeling of there being foul play. _Someone_ was moving drugs around, and Gajeel hadn't been the one to do it for a long time. Gajeel glared at Jellal as the latter noticed a call coming though on his phone. It seemed urgent because he rushed to finish his conversation with Gajeel so he could take it.

"Listen, while my phone is technically on during the day, this upset is going to cause a lot of traffic on it, so I'll probably keep it off. Plus, I probably wouldn't even be coherent enough for you to reach me anyway." Jellal admitted, confusing Gajeel briefly.

He continued, "The best way to get in touch with me, therefore, will be if you contact my sister, she can relay your message to me and her voice is grating enough that I'll be forced to pay attention. She sees me around more often than you do. If you have any query about anything however small- call her on this number and I will get back to you." Jellal passed Gajeel a card reading ' **ICE** [Day Number] [8-3] followed by a landline phone number.

Without another word Jellal answered the persistent ringing phone, announcing the command "Talk to me." To whoever was on the line, in full business mode.

Gajeel's phone buzzed as Jellal walked away. It was a text from Natsu reading "Yo, Metalhead! If you see Jellal give him an excuse for why I didn't show up. I'm at Fairy Tail :)" Gajeel clenched his fist before texting back to the cocky bastard, "Fuck you Salamander! Just say you went there to get witnesses for your alibi. But do it yourself, I'm not doing shit for you."

Gajeel looked around the room and saw Jellal was now leaving, probably going off to appease whoever was on the phone, no doubt the customer who'd received no car today. Gajeel looked down at his watch realising he technically should be starting work here in ten minutes, it almost being twelve o'clock when his night shift started. Gajeel was pissed off though, and Jellal wasn't going to be here for the rest of the night he figured. He decided he'd just go home and sleep the night away and work during the day tomorrow, even though he knew he'd be overtired. He just couldn't work right now, even he knew he was out of his head so much that he'd be sure to make a mistake, and where would that leave him. Jobless in 'The City that works'- the irony wasn't lost on him.

An hour after leaving the shop, when he arrived, there was a burly bodyguard that saw Jellal, from the wrought iron gate, into the lavish interior. He was told to go through a pair of double mahogany doors, so he did. What he walked into looked like a throne room with vast white marble floors, high ceilings, and a singular centred chair, on which sat his client. But Jellal was too distracted to look at him. His attention was instead taken entirely by the corpse ten feet from where he stood.

The body was clad in dark clothes, now slightly shiny from being doused in coagulating blood. It was staining the white floors red. The body was a man's, but it took a while for Jellal to determine this, because he had no head. Where his head should be, was reduced to mulch and meat, seemingly spilling out of the remains of a crooked bottom jaw. It looked as if his head had exploded from the inside, but the dented, and dark with dried blood, club that was perched nearby the body indicated otherwise. The most identifying feature on the man, given he had no facial features any longer, had become a tattoo across his neck. 'No surrender', it read. Jellal couldn't help but think, as he fought down the bile raising in his throat at the sight of the man, it might have turned out better for this guy had he felt laxer about surrendering to a someone capable of this kind of violence.

If Jellal didn't know before he certainly knew now, the man sat in front of him, in the centred chair, was not to be trifled with. He breathed heavily from the oxygen debt made during the exertion of beating out the man's brains. He wiped, on a clean handkerchief, the splashes of blood that'd marked his face. Noticing Jellal's entrance he waved his hand covered in rings, gesturing he come closer. As Jellal did so, he addressed the man, only to be interrupted.

"Jose, I-"

"Do you see this man, Fernandez?" Jose asked, calling Jellal by his assigned codename. Jellal nodded not looking at the body to which he was referring.

"This man did me a great service tonight, and I believe I shall always be grateful for it." Jose praised, confusing Jellal. "He found important information of the highest concern regarding an old member of my family. A person I haven't seen in a long time, and dearly wish to be reunited with." Again, this didn't follow for Jellal, who saw the man's reward for this 'great service' amount to his execution.

"Do you have a family, Fernandez?" The Gang boss asked him.

With hesitation, he responded truthfully. "I do, Sir."

"I had thought so. You seemed like a family man to me Fernandez. Family is the most important thing, is it not?"

"Yes, Sir." Jellal lied.

"That is why I was so elated at this man's information." Jose explained, then recounted. "This particular member of my family (though the two of us aren't related by blood), she was very dear to me. But there was something about my realm of business she couldn't take and, years back, she deserted me, in a dreadful betrayal." Jellal was starting to feel this was taking on the tone of an anecdotal threat.

"Those who usually betray me meet a fate similar to this man." He gestured to the pile of butchered meat behind them. "But this woman, she has no malice in her heart. And she was so young, when I knew her, so I remark her decision as merely influenced by novicey and inexperience. Being the patient man that I am, I have waited for years so she could reflect on her impulsive life effecting error. I was reliably informed by the man behind you of where she is, and that now she has matured into a sensible, brilliant woman- who I've no doubt, given her sense, will consider re-joining my family."

"I hope she does Sir, you seem fond of her."

"I'm fond of all members of my family, and I would consider you a member of that extended family, Fernandez." Jose praised.

"That makes me feel highly honoured, Sir."

Jose's expression turned hateful. "I also considered the man behind you a member of that family. But he betrayed me, and I was forced to end his life. My honours can be reclaimed as quickly as they can be bestowed. Keep that in mind, Fernandez." Jose warned.

Jose for the first time now stood from his seat, and gestured Jellal follow him as he walked to stand by the body. They stood shoulder to shoulder like two homicide detectives, looking down on a crime scene. Jose talked though, like they were at an open casket funeral, recounting solemnly the life of the deceased. "This man's codename was Vessel. While he has honoured me of late in his service, he did not respect my property- that's why he's now dead. When covertly tailing the woman I care for, he forgot a criterium of his mission. He was to treat her with the upmost of respect, as all my property should be treated." Jose paused and took up in his hand the nearby resting club, getting a strong grip, grasping until his knuckles went white.

"But this man fondled and pressured the woman I care for. As he stood here, he gloated that he had taken her into his mouth. That he'd grouped and breathed on her. He stood here, and he was proud of it!" Jose shouted. And in his rage, he growled and raised the club, dropping it like a guillotine onto the man's neck. The blunt edge of the club was not sharp, and the skin wasn't cut. Instead, Jellal heard the bones and gristle of his neck crunch and re-arrange themselves, so when he pulled the club away his oesophagus had caved in. Jellal couldn't help his instinct that made him flinch and step back. As he now stood aside he was forgotten by Jose, who instead beat down on the long dead body with vindictive fury. When he stopped to gasp for air, he turned back finding the shaken man staring at him fearfully and pointed the club at him accusingly like a sceptre.

Jose said in a dark tone. "And he's not the only one who's disrespected my property of late."

Jellal swallowed as Jose continued. "I entrusted you, upon your joining my family, with a shipment of a sizable amount of pure white cocaine. Your task was to take it, in the trunk of one of your repossessed cars, to my representative at the docks, where the shipment and car would both be procured by me. Was that not the case?"

"It was, Sir." Jellal spluttered, terrified.

"And yet I hear that same car and shipment have been incinerated and my property destroyed. Is this true?" Jose demanded.

"Yes, Sir." Jose dropped the club and stormed over to Jellal. He grabbed him roughly by the nape of the neck and steered him from behind, pushing his head down so it was right near what was left of Vessel's head. The smell assaulted Jellal from below, and from above Jose shouted down at him.

"Look closely Fernandez at what happens to someone who disrespects my property! Regardless of any affection I have for anyone, if they cross me, as you or Vessel have done, this, this is what befalls them! Do you understand?"

"Yes, Yes! I understand! I understand." Jellal shouted, desperately trying to placate the man.

"You are lucky," Jose now whispered. "that I am such a patient man. Since you are such a new edition to this family of mine I will, like the woman, attribute your mistake to a youthful inexperience. And as such, it is something I can, this one time, forgive." Jose allowed Jellal to rise back up to his full height and then let go of the scruff of his neck. Jellal turned to look at him in full.

"If you ever feel inclined to disrespect or be unmindful of my property again, I will not be so forgiving, and you will join Vessel. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Sir." Jellal said, standing stock still not trusting his legs to support him if he moved.

"Leave now." Jose commanded. Jellal complied.

Jellal sort of blacked out as he was being escorted off Jose's Northside property and didn't realise where he was (seated on a wall in an adjacent alley) until he'd been there a good five minutes afterwards. Then his head began to fill with the events of the day that, the stress of which, he felt had aged him ten years.

A kaleidoscope of colours and smoke. The embers of the car fire as he'd viewed them, through the pixels of a TV screen. Urgent texts on his phone screen all blending into each other. Vessel's hollowed out face, red and chewed.

Jellal grabbed his swimming migraine-afflicted head and put it between his legs. He breathed shakily. Then he remembered the smell of Vessel as his head was being forced down, like it was again now. It had been like raw roadkill that had been inverted and left to dry in the sun. Remembering that, Jellal clenched his eyes, and couldn't stop it when he was physically sick over his shoes. Now he knew, he was in the sick, the blood and the _deepest_ of deep shit.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Trigger warning for recounted violence in this chapter**

When she came around, she was sat on the couch which, unbeknownst to her held $3.45 in loose change in its many crevices, had under the second cushion a large beer stain and, had in the back board leaning up against the wall a hole small enough to hide some of Jellal's stash.

She was sat in the front room of the house alone in the dark on that couch. She was enrapt by the texture of her sofa's fabric and colour, like a sick green undercoated brown. She didn't know why she was focusing on the couch so hard, maybe she wasn't all there yet, having woken up deliriously.

She lifted her head and saw that on occasion a car would drive past the front of the house, and through the window the headlights' tracks would be reflected sweeping across the room's walls, like something out of a noir novel. Levy wondered why the curtains hadn't been closed.

Just as she moved her heavy limbs, to walk towards and draw shut the curtains, she felt a vibrating sensation next to her seat and heard her phone ringing beside her. Like a reflex action she picked up her phone and took the call.

Levy was still incoherent about how she'd gotten here and said nothing while she moved from her seat. Whoever was on the line however, said nothing also, and after Levy had drawn the second curtain closed by hand, she had gotten ready to hang up on what she assumed to be a pocket-dial or a kid playing a prank.

Just as her hand unclutched the curtain and she pulled her phone from her ear to end the call she heard a voice, quietened by the increased distance between ear and phone. She pulled it back to her ear to listen.

She recognised the voice as Juvia's, saying, "If he's after us now, he'll come to the house and find Juvia and Wendy. He'll follow us regardless of where we run. It would, in some ways, be better to stay here, but here is the first place he'll look!" Levy felt like she'd been dropped into the middle of a conversation as she had no context behind these words, and could in her head, swimming with confusion, formulate no explanation.

What could Juvia mean by ' _the house_ '? Levy was at the house now, alone. So where was Juvia? Levy had seldom heard Juvia's voice this agitated and said some words to comfort her.

"No Juvia, I don't think he'll come to the house tonight, but you can't be too careful so just pack up the bags, get Wendy, and go where I told you." The exact wording escaped Levy, without her understanding what she'd said. ' _Where she'd told her_ ', what could that mean? It was like Levy was no longer in control of her speech or body. Juvia said something about being afraid.

"Juvia, he's not after you, he's after me." Levy didn't know who she could mean by ' _he_ ', and the comment didn't seem to relax Juvia, who got agitated further and said she deserved an explanation. Levy sighed, getting frustrated with not understanding this exchange at all, feeling like an outsider despite being a part of it.

"I know, I'm sorry I hadn't planned for this." Levy heard herself apologise, these words being the first that were familiar to her, in a manner which was unsettling. Levy asked herself again why she'd been sitting by herself in the dark. Why would she need to? When had she needed to? What was ' _this_ '?

"I need to stay here." Levy said not believing the words. The proclamation felt like a terrible lie, like out of all places in the world, currently, this was the last place she should be. Levy started looking around panic-stricken. Out of her periphery she saw, as a car went past and cast its headlights on the window's curtains, the outlined silhouette of a tall man standing outside on her porch.

Levy now remembered when all this had happened before. She also remembered how it had ended for her. "If I am gone, you can manage without me." Levy heard herself reassure her sister over the phone, then make a rushed farewell. She remembered that, at the time, she'd really believed she'd die. Levy then rushed to the back door and cried pathetically when it wouldn't open for her. It was all the same. It was all happening the same way. Nothing had changed. All she could do was wait for it to happen.

Kurogane smashed through her front door, shoulders filling the whole frame, eyes hateful, hair like a hoard of jet black leeches- just as she remembered. Each step towards her he made, the floorboard made a 'crack' so loud it sounded like he'd made structural damage. And the sound, upon closer hearing, wasn't that of breaking wood, it was that of breaking bone. _Her_ bone.

She grappled with the back door. The metal handle of which now heated itself until impossibly red hot, and her hand burned to its touch, meaning she'd never get a good enough grip to open it and flee. And upon closer inspection, the hinges were welded flat and nails stuck the door to its frame.

Realising the futility of trying to open it, she grabbed a knife from the nearby kitchen counter but watched helplessly as it turned to dust in her hands and fell through her splayed fingers.

Kurogane was behind her now, immediately behind her, his presence palpable. She turned terrified to look at him, and his gorilla sized hand grabbed her dainty wrist. She felt and heard her wrist bones break, her skin seer red-hot and watched her fingers turn to dust in front of her. He hit her in the face and it had the same effect. Wherever he touched her skin, she decayed. It was only when her jaw had dissolved, and her chest had been excavated to the vacuum of her lungs, now filling with her hot sand, that her scream stopped leaving her body.

She awoke startled and jolted, gasping to assure herself of her lungs' structural integrity. As long as she was gulping down air she knew she wasn't drowning in hot sand, so she gulped and gasped with strenuous tears pricking the corner of her eyes. She was perched on her bed, her slight weight leaving barely a dent. She perched in it like a goddess in a flowing toga, white sheets surrounding her. It had been a nightmare she assured herself, only a dream.

She wiped her hair from her forehead, a sheen of cold there. As she calmed her breathing, she looked towards her dresser, on which rested the infamous alarm clock that she'd put back the night before. It read "7:06" meaning she'd slept through her ' _alarm_ ', which had most definitely failed again, but her nightmare had woken her up only a few minutes later than her due wake up call.

Levy was shaken, and not well rested by any means, but at least she wouldn't be rushed or late like yesterday. Though as she sat in her bed weighed down by her nightmare and memory she did allow herself one minute to have a rejuvenating cry, before composing herself.

For a brief moment it had all become too much, but she had a job to do- it was a new day. She'd start by waking her siblings, she had to straighten some things out.

Knocking on Juvia's door later, and waking her sister up, Levy wasted no time in asking her sister her question. "Can you stay home today?"

"Why?" A pyjama-ed Juvia asked, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"Wendy's too hurt to go into school and I don't want her to be home alone. But if you're busy I can cancel my shifts instead." Levy offered genuinely, thinking about the suspect things she'd heard about her sister from Lisanna yesterday. Levy hoped Juvia was okay, but now she looked distressed.

"When Juvia was putting Happy down last night, she saw the injuries Wendy has. They're horrible." Juvia said shuddering. "Juvia was going to meet up with somebody again today, but of course she'll stay with Wendy instead- the poor girl needs some love!" Juvia said, feelingly.

"Thank you so much," Levy replied, relieved. "I'm so glad your plans are moveable."

Juvia hesitated a moment before seemingly taking advantage of this statement, to say believingly- "Yes, well, Juvia was just meeting up with an old relative. Juvia is trying to track the family's genealogy."

"At 8-bit?" Levy questioned, believing.

"Yes, yes. We went there for Brunch yesterday." Juvia confirmed over-zealously. "Juvia is looking for evidence of what she and Monica have, elsewhere in the family tree, so she interviewed our 2nd cousin about what he knows. He's a nice man, old."

"Who's cousin is he, which side?" Levy asked, spontaneously.

"Hmm?" Juvia hesitated, before recovering "Oh, Frank's cousin. Long estranged though, Frank wouldn't know anything about him if you asked him." Levy wanted so much to believe her sister, she missed how much like a loophole this particular remark sounded. "Juvia is looking hard. Genetic defects can spread widely through family trees if they're recessive, so Juvia is leaving no stone unturned. Juvia wants to better understand her condition, then she can conquer it."

This made Levy shine with pride. She hugged her sister and whispered a few words of supportive encouragement into her ear for her optimism, but she added as an afterthought, airing on the side of caution- "Don't trust this guy too freely though, just because he's extended family to us. He still may have questionable intentions."

Levy was hyper-aware and suspicious of people today as always, but especially after the events of last night. Having walked home together from the club the night before, upon reaching the door, Levy had realised she no longer had Juvia's key. She suspected it stolen by that drunken tattooed sleaze. Her and Juvia had gotten in the house alright (having just used Levy's key instead) but Levy hadn't told Juvia she'd lost her key. She'd wait until she could afford to get the locks changed, she didn't want to worry her unnecessarily.

Keeping that in mind and forgetting Lisanna's warnings at the diner yesterday, about the relative who Juvia had been with, Levy added: "But what do I know? He might be great! He might give you all the answers to your genetic questions. He might be really concerned about your well-being. He might walk you home from wherever you meet up. He might show you every courtesy, be a perfect gentleman, and buy frozen peas to numb your jacked-up arm."

With a confused and sly expression, a now very awake and coherent Juvia assured then deduced, "He's a perfectly pleasant old man, though he has not done those things for Juvia. Those are very specific examples. In fact, Juvia feels that Levy might be projecting her own experiences onto her."

Levy having been out of focus and away with the fairies, had made the blunder of mentioning Jet. And now she went into full damage control, making excuses in their dialogue to dissolve suspicions her sister may have formed, of looming romance between her and her boss. Because Juvia was, forever, and always, a romantic.

"Who is this mystery gentleman?" Juvia asked, a stupid happy grin on her face.

"My boss from the call centre. He walked me home from 8-bit, after I hurt myself at work yesterday." Levy admitted begrudgingly, already wary of Juvia's fanatical imagination spiralling out this scenario.

"Quite the gentleman!" Juvia praised, tone insinuating. "Will you ask him out? Or if he beats you to it, will you say yes?" Juvia asked eagerly.

"Wha, no I- I already shot him down yesterday." Levy stumbled over her words.

"But why?" Juvia mewled, outraged at the course of events. "And after he walked you home too!" No matter the angle, to Juvia, if a man walked home a single woman of a similar age to him, with whom he had a platonic relationship, it could only end with professions of mutual engrained love and hungry kissing. Juvia went on to interrogate Levy about Jet (precisely why Levy felt she'd erred so deeply in bringing him up in the conversation).

"He's your boss, so it would follow that he's doing quite well for himself financially?" Juvia asked.

Levy shrugged but nodded, guessing this would indeed be the case.

"And was he handsome?" Juvia asked, provoking Levy to think on the matter. He was a little weedy looking, and very skinny but not unattractive, just kind of plain- though his hair did make a loud statement. Levy mentioned all this to Juvia who sifted out anything her sister said that wasn't high praise for the man, as irrelevant. It was like she was panning for gold, and only a love confession from Levy would suffice.

"But he was kind to you, wasn't he?" Juvia asked. There was no doubt in Levy's mind about this. Levy realised as she was listing off to her sister every good deed the man had done in the span of a few hours, her sister was justified in saying "He could take care of you, Levy."

"I can take care of myself." Levy responded defensively, reflexively.

"Yes, but maybe Levy shouldn't have to." Juvia pointed out. "Levy struggles sometimes, Juvia knows, and the struggles would perhaps be lessened if the weights Levy had to bare were shared between two pairs of hands. I mean amongst raising two children, carrying multiple jobs, looking after Juvia on her worse days- a weaker woman would crumble. Like I did." Juvia added as an afterthought.

Levy caught the red flag and said measuredly but assertively to Juvia. "You, and Wendy and Happy don't weigh me down Juvia. Not ever. Look at today, you offering to stay home with Wendy- that's more helpful than you know."

Levy continued. "I don't need a man to be my rock when you're around Juvia. You're made of iron."

"But even iron rusts in the rain." Juvia pointed out. "We all need help to get through hardship when it falls down. So, if this man really wants to help Levy, give him a chance."

Levy considered this. Jet had been nice, great in fact, but their interactions had been awkward at best. There'd been no connection between them Levy could see, not anything withstanding. Was she silly to want that, some feeling of chemistry? People could get along just fine without that, Levy knew, but perhaps she was a romantic just like her sister and wouldn't be satisfied without that feeling. The last thing Levy would want would be to lead a nice guy on, but maybe he could lighten the load. If they were together romantically what would Levy owe him in the wake of it either? Perhaps then.

"I just might, Juvia." Levy decided.

Levy asked Juvia to wake up the kids and explain to Wendy she wouldn't be going to school the next two days, Levy had figured it would be better received coming from Juvia than her anyway. The morning transpired in a much more relaxed fashion than yesterday and things like breakfast and packed lunches were made by Levy, far more measured than previously. Jellal wasn't on the couch, which meant he was probably out all night. Be that out socialising or working, Levy had no clue.

As Levy and Happy were getting ready to leave for their bus, as an afterthought, Levy put the alarm clock in the stroller's bottom compartment. Levy was optimistic today that she might get it fixed, as she couldn't relay on her nightmares to wake her up at a sensible time every day. Levy and Happy were waved off by the youngest and eldest of the family's sisters, who were sat in the kitchen where Juvia was redressing the cut on Wendy's forehead. Once Levy and Happy had gone for the day the two sisters broke into conversation.

"Levy's met a nice man." Juvia said to Wendy, smile on her face and in her voice.

"Really?" Wendy asked surprised, having heard nothing about this herself. "Is she in love with him?" Wendy asked.

Juvia hesitated while ringing out a cloth but mulled it over aloud. "Juvia doesn't think so. Not yet anyway, but there's so few good men in the city that she'd be foolish not to try."

"I didn't know that it was something you had to try at, I thought love came naturally to people." Wendy pointed out.

"It should. But when people are unlucky in Love again and again, they tend to close off. But you should always try to love people Wendy. You should always forgive them and when you love, put all of yourself into it, because it can be the best feeling in the world." Juvia promised.

"Have you ever been in love?" Wendy asked Juvia, enthralled.

"Juvia has been, many times." She admitted. "She is just waiting to meet someone who'll love her back."

Levy delivered Happy to Preschool at a reasonable time without a hitch, her promptness had even put her in such a good mood that Levy shrugged off all the dirty looks she'd gotten from the parents, namely the moms. Yukino still seemed concerned like yesterday, about Levy's bruised shoulder. She asked after it even despite Levy having had the sense to cover it with a cardigan today. But Levy thought little of it and instead walked leisurely away and towards the call centre.

When she arrived and got out the elevator on the first floor, Jet was poised nearby at the photocopier, twiddling his thumbs clearly having grown bored with keeping up the farce of activity in his wait for Levy to arrive. When he spotted her, he sprung back to life and in rising from his perch he put his weight down on the flimsy printer tray and tripped over his own feet at surprise, it having not supported his weight like he'd expected.

He tripped practically comically, and it emphasised just how awkward this man was and could be. Keeping that in mind, Levy realised if she wasn't forward about her newfound intentions they might be going around in circles for a while, given that he'd misinterpret something, and she would back, and it would take forever to clear the air. Instead she just said, "Walk me to 8-bit after my shift is over?"

Jet looked like this had been the last thing he'd expected. He managed to mumble out "Um, sure, but why?"

Levy thought about it for a moment. "A change of heart, about what you said yesterday. Maybe after my shift there we could get some lunch?"

Dumbstruck, Jet managed to say, "I'd like that very much."

And Levy knew that she would too. She walked off with an affirming nod signalling her departure, ready to start her shift. She was sure her shift would pass much quicker than usual, now that she had something to look forward to.

 **AN: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Many Thanks to Dragonfly, eviemk, JGio23, and KGVision for all reviewing after the last double update (We'll be getting back to Gajeel next chapter, and it'll be structured quite a lot like this chapter, so please let me know what you think of this one if you can) ~Until next time.**


	12. Chapter 12

It started as a few muffled noises, like he was hearing everything through a lead wall on all sides. There was something that sounded like the whirring of flares coming off an industrial saw, and the pressurised flammable gas escaping a blow torch. Gajeel couldn't see anything, but in his mind, he imagined the orange sparks coming from the metal on metal, and the roaring blue flame of the torch reflected in a welding helmet's visor, discolouring and warping it like a gas spill through flowing water. He imagined these images and somehow, they came into being, and he could see them in the dark in front of him. But if at any point there was a lull in the noises, the pictures faded.

The sounds he was hearing were common place within the car shop, so they didn't startle him. Of a working day, it would often fade into background noise as he worked, and he'd think nothing of it, along with the voices of the other guys over the top of these noises, as they would shout out to be heard over them by one another. But Gajeel could usually see around himself in the shop, not just the occasional picture, so he was a little nerve-wracked. He gained some clarity when, as usual, one of the guys called out.

"When's break?" One guy asked. Gajeel thought he recognised the voice as Mash, which would make sense considering how much of a slacker the guy could be.

It wasn't long before another mechanic set Mash straight and encouraged him to "Get back to work, man!"

Now just like that, having heard them, Gajeel could now see them, tinkering away half-heartedly at their stations, like they'd always been there, and he'd always been able to see them. This carried on for a time before the garage door was heard being drawn up fast, so fast it made a whirring noise as it rose and clicked into the slots one after another. Someone had opened it in a rush and this made Mash, and the other mechanic on call, turn to whoever had drawn up the corrugated door. Gajeel couldn't see them yet (he could only see the open door) as they'd not yet made any noise themselves.

"Who the hell are you?" Mash asked, looking the guys who'd opened the door in the face, where Gajeel could not, as the figures who'd opened the door just looked like faded grey ghosts to Gajeel. They'd yet to make a sound. This changed when he heard the click of a gun chamber. All Gajeel managed to do was suck in a singular shallow breath before the firing started.

The rounds fired off and the cacophonous noise reverberated around the cavernous garage. Because of this, Gajeel couldn't pin point the location of the guns and he just saw them everywhere. Semi-automatic fire-arms, heavy militia. Each time one shot the noise seemed to fuel it, so he'd see it brighter, more vibriantly than before. And the same rule followed that when Gajeel's mechanics made more noise, their images became clearer too.

Gajeel couldn't guess how many times each of them was shot. But when they groaned at the impact and collapsed to the floor, Gajeel saw the blood spill out of them. With each moan, the blood got redder and their features became more defined so Gajeel could see the fear and pain written plainly over their faces. They contorted as the metal affects around them were shot also, confusing the noise-picture.

"Oh God! Gah, why? Oh Ghad!" Mash chocked out on the floor, growling in intervals through his gritted teeth, trying to control the pain. Gajeel saw the blood splutter out of his mouth. As the pictures resolution was proportionate to the noise made by the subject, the loud, damming exclamation made by Mash made him glow like God was answering him. But God had a sick sense of humour and made no move to intervene.

So it seems, did Gajeel- as he didn't make any move to stop the slaughter either. He'd wanted to, but he couldn't control his body, he couldn't make it move. While the boys groaned out a pain and became clearer and clearer in his mind's-eye, Gajeel found himself wishing they'd stop making noise altogether, so he wouldn't have to see them anymore. But then, the rational side of his mind realised the only thing that would stop them from making noise now, would be what stopped them from making noise permanently. ' _How could this have happened_?' Gajeel asked himself internally as the gunfire ceased.

A few more groans escaped the men as they died, and then, no longer making any noise, they faded like smoke into the inky black backdrop of Gajeel's current reality. The only sound now, which had up to this point been overshadowed by louder guns and voices, was a pitiful sniffling from the door.

The noise made the figure, aside from the centred one in the door, start to take focus. The origin of the crying morphed into the image of a woman. She was short, had a fancy halter neck dress on (like she used to wear when she was Jose's right-hand-woman), she had bruises all up the right side of her face framed by her blue hair, pinned up and trailing down to one side. She looked straight out of the roaring 20s, completely out of place amongst the now shadowed massacre Gajeel couldn't see. It had shaken her, she looked so afraid anyone would think it had been her who was shot.

She turned to the central figure in the doorway and asked in a quiet watery voice, "Why would you do this? These were- they were innocent men." She sounded so lost, all of a sudden, she fit perfectly into the barren setting.

"They were guilty by association." Said the central man in an unfeeling voice. He started to take shape. He had on a velvet sheened cloak, fedora hat with long waxy hair spilling out of it onto his shoulders. In his hand, on which he wore many rings, he held a semi-automatic rifle. Inset into his face were the eyes of the devil; Jose.

He continued, "They were associates of Kurogane. You remember him?" He asked the woman. "He's the one who hurt you. And this-" He gestured around the blackness, near the floors where Gajeel assumed the bodies of his friends remained. "this will hurt Kurogane. He deserves it." He concluded confidently.

The woman just shook her head, eyes clenched tightly closed. "No-one deserves this." She said softly. Gajeel felt a pain roll through him at the words. She of all people should will this on him, after what he'd done to her. He looked her dead in the face.

She looked just like a little bird who'd had its wings clipped. A blue canary that Jose had tied a chain around the foot of, so it couldn't fly away. A bird that had forgotten how to sing and could now only cry. And even after what he'd done, a part of her cried for him.

Her crying wasn't voluble, but it suddenly seemed like the loudest sound in the room and the surrounding darkness was overshadowed by her glowing, it spread like a nuclear explosion had gone off and pervaded his whole vision. The backdrop was white now, not black; and once it dimmed, Gajeel was laying on his back looking up at a dirty car's undercarriage.

He was back in the shop, the real shop, where all the noises of switching parts, cutting metal and welding back together were all accompanied by solid constant pictures rather than projections. He rolled out from under the car to be sure. The garage was busy, Mash and the other mechanics were in their respective corners working away, uninjured. The door was closed and locked so that no-one would be able to pass through. Everything was as it should be, leaving Gajeel to conclude what he'd seen and heard had been nothing but a dream. Only a nightmare.

He must have fallen asleep under the car when he rolled in to fix it up. Gajeel had suspected his change from a night to a day-shift in only 48 hours would make him over tired, and now he knew it to be the case. And the same problem that he had the night before, in his tiredness, would surely face him again now. Being this tired he was bound to make a mistake which would end up with him fired. He didn't even remember what Jellal had asked him to check for in this Bentley he'd woken up under.

Racking his brain about how to proceed, Gajeel had a eureka moment when he remembered Jellal had given him an out, for this exact kind of situation. Gajeel slumped down on a nearby stool, after pulling out the little hand-written card Jellal had given him yesterday. He'd said if Gajeel had any questions it would be better if he calls this number, then his sister would answer and relay the message. Gajeel would just ask her what he was supposed to be checking for on the Bentley. He read the neat script- ' **ICE** [Day Number] [8-3]'

Gajeel deduced the numbers would be the hours he could contact the sister. A quick glance to his watch showed him it was '2:10'. Keying in the landline number from the card, Gajeel figured it couldn't hurt to call. At least then Jellal couldn't get on his ass about it. That in mind, Gajeel pressed dial.

"Hello?" Came a smooth, wispy female voice down the line.

"Hey," Gajeel started, voice slightly less harsh than usual, not knowing how to approach this situation. "is this Jellal's sister speaking?" Gajeel asked.

After a long moment's hesitation, she devised, "I don't know any Jellal, sorry. I think you have the wrong number."

"You're sure? 'Cause he gave me this number specifically. He said if I had a problem I should ask after his sister and she'd relay a message." Gajeel ventured, disbelieving as he figured Jellal wouldn't send him on a wild goose chase.

"You don't know what this landline is for, do you?" The woman questioned, her tone making Gajeel feel like she knew something he didn't.

"What?" He asked, hesitant.

"This is a sex-chat line." She stated, as casually as if she'd been commenting on the weather. "Looks like this 'Jellal' guy pulled a prank on you."

"Seriously?" Gajeel said in an annoyed tone, "he gave me the number of some hooker?"

"Your friend 'Jellal' sounds like an asshole." The woman on the end of the line conceded.

"Don't I know it!" Gajeel exclaimed, more than a little deflated.

After a pause the woman said, "But you sound like one too."

Gajeel didn't know how to respond to that, he had no idea what he'd done to offend this woman. He was just about to ask when she interrupted him. "What did-?"

"I don't hook with anybody on this line." She said defensively. "I just whisper things in their ear when they get lonely, I tell them what they want to hear." She explained. "I don't like doing it, but it helps feed my two kids so-" She trailed off, successfully leaving Gajeel feeling like shit. He felt like he should say something to redeem himself.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by that." Gajeel excused weakly. "I'll hang up." He offered "I must be backing up your line."

The woman was surprised when, as an add-on, he said, "How do I pay you?"

"What for?" she asked, confused.

"I used your call line." He said in explanation. "aren't people usually expected to pay by the minute for these kinds of things?"

The woman laughed briefly. She was thinking about how much of a novice to this, this guy really was. Meanwhile, her laugh sounded to Gajeel, like a laugh that was modest, in tune. He could see why people would pay her to talk. "I haven't done a thing for you, I won't take your money." She said firmly, in a tone he believed.

Wracking his brain, Gajeel came up with a retort. "You said you tell people what they want to hear, right?" He asked, she hummed in the affirmative. "If I ask you to say something, then I've got to pay you for your trouble." He concluded.

"What do you want me to say?" She asked, begrudgingly.

Gajeel thought about this long and hard. It wasn't so much what he wanted her to say, rather what he wanted to hear. He decided on saying, "Tell me, you forgive me."

"For calling me a hooker?" She asked, in an amused tone. "I wasn't that mad about it, I've been called worse." She backtracked.

"No." He said, tone sombre and serious "I didn't mean about that. It's just- I've done a lot of bad shit in my life. I thought it would just be nice if, after all of it, I could hear someone, anyone really, say they forgave me." He admitted, to this woman who was nothing but a stranger.

The admission flooded out of Gajeel as he thought back on his dream- an example of what his past offences might, in future, come to. He thought about people he'd let down along the way, who he hadn't heard say they'd forgiven him. He thought of Jose's Canary, in both her 20s dress in his dream, and when she'd whirled into his house, baby on her hip, bat in her hand- like a force of nature. She, like all the other people he'd hurt, would never forgive him. Maybe he could convince this woman to say it instead, maybe he could trick himself into believing it.

"Is that just crazy?" He asked down the phoneline, to the woman who had yet to respond.

"No." she said quietly, feelingly. "It isn't crazy. We've all done bad shit we want to take back. Hell, you think I lived a saintly life to wind up doing this as a job?" She challenged, but Gajeel knew she wouldn't say that if she knew exactly what he'd done, how bad it really was.

She continued, "Most of the guys that call into here, they don't show me a single courtesy. But you seem genuinely sorry for offending me, so you can hold that over them. Guys call into here because they're perverts, but they're also cowards too. They phone in to get themselves off, but they remain anonymous, so they can fool themselves into thinking that's not what they're really like. You may have done bad shit, but at least you're honest about it. Own your shit, you know? You can hold that over them. I think you regret it too. And as far as where I'm concerned, you've got nothing to apologise for, and I've got nothing to forgive. But since you asked nicely, I forgive you."

Gajeel felt a weight leave his chest. Even though he didn't believe all of the positive things she'd picked out about his character, he was still right in thinking it would do him some good to hear the words. Plus, this girl had gone beyond what he'd asked her to say, like she really wanted him to believe it.

Rather hesitantly, she continued, "Now, I wonder if you can forgive me?" She asked awkwardly.

"For what?" He said, confused.

"I may have misled you earlier, when I said I didn't know Jellal. The truth is, _I am_ his sister. And if there's any message you want to get to him, I'll pass it on." She admitted, voice flustered.

"Why'd you lie?" Gajeel asked.

"He's an asshole, I like to pretend I have nothing to do with him." This sounded understandable to Gajeel, who'd equally like to have nothing to do with the man.

"Can you ask him what I was supposed to be doing to the Bentley he delivered to me? It's not too pressing, I'll just work on one of the other cars, but it'd be helpful to know."

"Sure, and don't worry about paying me, alright? You can get the next one." She offered.

"I don't think I'll have to call in again." He said unconvincingly.

"Maybe not." She said coyly. "But if you've got another message for my brother, feel free to call again. Hell, feel free to call anyway." She invited.

They said their goodbyes and Gajeel hung up the line, before he kicked himself realising he'd never given the girl his name and he'd never gotten hers. He felt like that would get to him for a while. He'd like to be able to put a name to the only voice he'd ever heard forgive him. And if fate allowed, he'd like to put a face to that name too.

But hell, perhaps it was better that he didn't know who she was- then he could pretend it was a woman he'd let down in his _real_ life who'd forgiven him, and not just a stranger. Sat on his stool in the garage that's what he did now. He imagined Jose's Canary in her 20s dress, tears streaming down her cheeks, sincerely saying the words "I forgive you." with the Call-girl's voice (just as he'd heard it, softened and slightly warped by static over the phone).

Eventually, Gajeel convinced himself to ignore the nagging feeling, that the Canary's Face and the Call-girl's distorted Voice matched up eerily well.

 **AN: I live! Please forgive my tardiness, Life has been terribly busy recently which has set back my writing. I hope you enjoyed the more surreal approach of these last two chapters with the dream experiences- they were fun to write- I also like writing Gajeel and Levy becoming more an more entwined behind the scenes without the two of them realising it. Also, I'm so overwhelmed by the positive feedback, bless you all. Thank you, and stay tuned.**


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